Don't Forget to Breathe
by Perfectcircle
Summary: The first thing Hermione could recall on how it all began was the taste of Draco’s lips on her, Sweet, arrogant and deep. Perhaps, that was where it all started...
1. Human Behavior

**Human Behavior**

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The first thing Hermione could recall on how it all began was the taste of Draco's lips on her, Sweet, arrogant and deep. So one can complain on how arrogance could be tasted, but Hermione was Hermione and that was how she saw it. Arrogance could be tasted, much like hatred- hatred tasted like blood, and love with hatred tasted like a kiss with blood.

Some say that love knows no bounds, or people or wealth- even opposites attract. But Hermione had one problem; she had all of those 'afflictions' aforementioned and she loved Draco Malfoy to the point of destruction.

It didn't start out simple enough where hate turned to love. It had its tremendous upsets, marred with emotional setbacks and denial. It was their last year in Hogwarts. She was Head Girl, while some Ravenclaw; Head Boy. She had her trials that day, mostly related to academics and the planning of the special holidays Hogwarts was about to have.

It was the first month of September, when Slytherin lad and Gryffindor lass first had a strange sort of connection that would later shock the school year and the students, and even until they had all graduated.

It was six-thirty in the morning and Hermione went to the library sitting at the right most corner; after a very early breakfast to catch on reading her notes for an exam under Professor Sprout. Her minute handwriting was fifty-two pages worth in her notebook of a hundred leaves and classes had just started five days ago. She had a purpose to be busy. This is training, she thought, willing herself to keep busy and keep herself at the top of her game or their N.E.W.T.S. And she began, clenching a fist, recalling the horrible turn out of events the day after Hogwarts begun its term. She shook her head and willed herself again to concentrate-

_Aconite. An extremely poisonous plant (hence its other name of __wolfsbane__). It is also called __monkshood__ because the shape of the flowers somewhat resembles a monk's cowl…if I used this to put it in his- argh! Stop it Hermione…okay…so this poison that- if he drank it with butterbeer he wouldn't get to taste the bitterness in it much…if I could just- Okay! Hermione concentrate, please! Bloody hell! I am going to use this to poison him- calm down, Hermione. He didn't break up with you, you broke up with him…Yeah I still feel miserable, the cheating son-of-a- Hermione! Study! Study! Herbology exam worth two hundred points…I swear, I'm going to watch him choke on his butterbeer once I'm through with- _

She heard a thudding sound a few feet away from her- coming from one of the bookshelves behind her. She stood up, wondering if it was Neville again, carrying a ridiculous stack of Herbology books like the last time she saw him. She walked for the person, knelt near a bookshelf, grabbing the books from the cold stone floor. She began to help the young lad and when she looked up he scowled.

Her eyes narrowed and she said nothing more as she gave him the last book. That was Draco Malfoy, the bastard that he was. No 'thank you' for the early morning 'help' at all.

Draco's head conjured something. He recalled with relish the events that happened the second day after the school term began…

_Hermione gasped a gasp audible enough for everyone to hear. " Her? " she repeated in the sudden stillness of the hallway. Classes had been dismissed and Ron wanted to tell her something important…_

_Ron's face looked redder than his hair. "Hermione keep- keep your voice down! Please? " _

"_And let you get away with it? " her voice piped to a higher tone. She was not letting him get away with it. He was going to pay. He was going to pay dearly…Hermione felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked at Harry's troubled green eyes. "You knew, right? All summer when I wasn't with you guys? You knew! " _

_Harry's hand dropped and he sighed. Of course he knew. Ron was his best mate, but as was Hermione…and he felt like a traitor to both of them now. He tried to touch Hermione's shoulder again but she slapped it away. _

"_Don't you dare touch me! " _

_At that moment, everyone present in the supposedly quiet hallway knew what it was all about. Some had their suspicions, others felt pity, and others felt happy for Ron that Ron had found someone else- _

"_Hermione, please! " Ron reasoned, his dark eyes glistening in frustration._

"_Touch me again and I'll give you a hex you won't forget! " she said in a low voice. She was trying hard not to cry, trying hard to control her rage, but rage cannot be controlled. She was seeing Ron's face in blood now._

_The crowd shifted and Lavender stood there with Parvati, carrying a book, her face in misery for betraying her friend. _

"_Hermione- " she began, trying hard not to sob in the crowd. " I- I didn't mean to hurt you- " _

"_Don't you ever say that again! Or you'll never see the light of day tomorrow! " she cried out, unaware that a tear or two spilled onto her cheeks. At that sight and at her threats, Lavender began to cry as well. _

_Ron moved for Lavender. "Don't cry Lavvy, I'm going to finish this- " he began consoling her. " This'll all be okay soon- " _

_Harry looked livid, how could he have the cheek to comfort Lavender Brown when Hermione was hurting more than her!. "Ron! " he said. "Stop! " _

"_No, keep going on, Ronald, " Hermione said, controlling her voice finally, her glare growing icy on him. " Let's see how you well you stop making a girl cry. " _

_Ron made a move for Hermione but she stepped back on Harry's foot and Harry said nothing, he only winced. "Don't you dare touch me, Weasley! Not when you've just touched her. " _

_From the back of the interested crowd was Draco Malfoy, standing alone, listening to the drama, his smile belying his interest…_

"Thanks, Weasley- I mean Granger, " he finally said with a devious smile. And there was a resounding slap all around them and Draco's books fell on the floor once more. The books remained unpicked.

He stared at her, she stared at him. Hostility grew in the air and so did something else that they never expected. But the annoyance always came first, always. Draco touched his cold cheek with one hand, feeling the warmth spread and he knew it was turning red.

"Don't you ever-! " Hermione began. But she didn't continue. Instead she listened to the illusory calm surrounding them, the cool morning air enveloping them- and that something else they couldn't be aware of as of the moment.

"How does it feel to be dumped? " he hissed at her, his eyes twinkling, ready to exact revenge for the slap, ready to make her cry, ready to see her nose go runny and her eyes red just like the time Ron had-

"I wasn't dumped, but I guess it feels a bit like this, " she told him and he waited for what else she had to say but he felt another slap on his other cheek and he held her hand in retaliation and shoved her painfully against the book shelf. She winced and struggled against his body as he pressed himself hard against her, the rage glowing silver in his eyes.

"Nice try, mudblood, " he whispered into her ear.

"It only felt a bit like that, " she whispered back with the same degree of hatred.

And suddenly, he kissed her, eagerly, forcing her mouth to open and she resisted and then she did not. Their tongues met and Draco felt himself fall into lust, imagining how she would look like naked, wondering how soft her skin was underneath all that geeky looking uniform, sweat formed on his forehead and he felt how good everything was getting to be…then he yelped out.

"You bloody whore! " he hissed, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. There was a smear of blood. She had bitten him! The mudblood had bitten him right on his lips while they kissed! They kissed and she had bitten him! How dare she bite Draco Mal-

"That's right, Malfoy, call me any name you want, you just kissed a mudblood anyway or whatever name you'll call me. "

"Perhaps you weren't the great shag he thought you'd be, " he retorted in a quiet voice. His ego had deflated the moment she had bit him. It was time for it to recover.

She smiled at him, biting her lower lip, his blood still there. " Perhaps. But I think you think I am. "

"Maybe he had a reason other than that, " he began. " He tired of you, Granger. And I sympathize with him- you aren't all that great, you know. You're just a walking and talking book, predictable and over used- you're an archive of woes and emotional failures. "

"If you've got nothing left to say, maybe you should grab those books on the floor and read. I hope you don't fail the tests later, " she said coolly, knowing he would fail again.

He watched her as she began to walk away from him when he unexpectedly grabbed her by the arms and held them down with his own. "You don't walk away from me without falling for me, " he said in a dangerous tone. Nobody walks away from Draco Malfoy without falling for him. He was going to make her pay.

She looked at him straight in the eye, fear kept well. He meant what he had said, she saw to that. And yet she could not help but believe what he said was true. She would fall for him. But he had forgotten her. He would fall for her too.

"If I fall for you, you'll fall further for me, " she hissed back, not really believing in what she said. But Draco did. Of course he wasn't ready to admit it. Never. But the magic had begun.

Then it would begin; the pain, the lies, the desperation to keep the dream of love afloat, and the greed for having no one else but each other…but that would come much, much later.

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Of course she passed her exams without the need to cram. She could have skipped her early morning studies and she still would have passed. She still sat beside Harry and Ron during Herbology but was so good in pretending they didn't exist, Harry and Ron stopped talking to her, resigning that this was punishment, Hermione style. Lavender avoided Hermione at all times since day two at Hogwarts.

Hermione didn't want to punish. She wanted retribution. She knew retribution was not part of her game, but maybe now was the time to stop acting like a saint, a model student. Now was the time to commit murder without shedding blood. They would regret collaborating against her. She wanted to be selfish this time, wanted to exact everything they had done, no matter how un-Hermione-like it all would be. She wanted to be free. Freedom came in a high price; it would become who she wasn't.

Classes ended that day uneventfully. She aced everything written, but didn't raise her hands when the new Potions professor asked the class questions, nor did she offer to show the class how to make a good anti-wrinkling potion in Herbology. Hermione was quiet. That was how everyone saw it.

Many girls thought Ron had been unfair to Hermione- some came to empathize with her and kept away from Lavender and Ron as protest. Hermione didn't care who empathized and who did not. The antagonism in her never left- but she never let it get in the way with her studies. Love was different from school. Love did not subsist in school.

So Hermione escaped the school buzz, the gossip and empathy when she went out that day to sit near the Great Lake that slept near Hogwarts. Of course there was nothing spectacular there on a school day at past five-thirty in the afternoon. The water was as still as it could be as she sat on a boulder facing the Hogwarts Castle. One by one, she saw the lights glow from different areas within the castle.

She quickly grew bored and toyed with her wand, setting off a few sparks of red and purple in which she played with them as if bursting bubbles in the air with the tip of her wand. She smiled to herself, wondering if she could burst Ron's head and Lavender's too, with the tip of her wand. Her annoyance for Harry grew less now, as she understood that Harry was caught between loyalty for her and for Ron- but she still wouldn't speak to him to let him learn his lesson. Never take a cheating bastard's side, Hermione thought, especially if that cheating bastard was a redhead named Ron Weasley.

Hermione was snapped from her thoughts when she heard someone's giggling and moaning. She stood up, wary of it now. She crept slowly; up to a patch of bushes a few feet away from her and her eyes grew wide and she burst out amused.

Draco Malfoy was in the process of removing his shirt as Pansy had already removed hers. She shrieked, seeing Hermione stand before them, fully clothed and grinning ear to ear.

Draco looked up, eyes ablaze in annoyance. His eyes narrowed as he stopped unbuttoning Pansy's lacy brassiere. "The bloody hell- "

"I didn't mean to- " Hermione protested, still smiling. " I thought someone was in trouble. Turns out, it's true. "

And Draco knew Head Girl was up to something, something that could jeopardize his future and Pansy's as well. He motioned for Pansy to get up, and she did, dutifully- like she were his wife and she hastily put on her clothes together as she left the area quickly.

"If you say a word about this- " he began, his mind conjuring up a thousand threats and a thousand ways to kill her off.

"I won't, " Hermione said calmly. " What good would this do to me? Besides, it's stipulated in the Conduct Book that 'those who are found engaging in lewd acts within Hogwarts Castle will be subject to disciplinary action…' You're out of Hogwarts Castle, so no worries there. "

Draco sputtered out. He had thought she would say something that would incriminate him in the eyes of Hogwarts Rules. He finally gave out a sly smile. Then he laughed for a short while. "Bloody hell, you could be in Slytherin with that kind of thinking. "

"I was thinking of transferring dormitories too, " Hermione quipped. " Aren't you going after Pansy? "

"She can manage, " he said nonchalantly. " And now that you've found my snogging and shagging place, I should start thinking somewhere else, outside of Hogwarts. "

"If you could, " she said.

Draco's annoyance suddenly came back. "What the hell are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be reading and studying like the arse that you are? Oh- wait, I get it. You're staying away from everyone's prying eyes. "

"Yes and that too. But I also thought fresh air would do me good- but I don't I think I'll get that here, with the kind of sensual atmosphere- "

He grabbed her hand tightly, jerking it upwards- causing her to stagger to his chest. "I don't do good with interruptions, " he whispered to her.

"Well, so do I, " she whispered back, impervious and defiant. " I won't be put down by anyone, ever. "

"Good lesson learned, mudblood? "

"I was wondering when you'd say that. Now let go of my hand, or I'll do my thing as Head Girl. I assure you, your father will be more than ungrateful to you when I'm through with you. "

And he let her go, his silver eyes burning, as if placed in molten metal. There was danger present and a newfound respect. She had a Slytherin spirit in her, alright; there was no denying that. "I'll see you in the lower state you are in now, if you ever say something about this incident. "

"People won't pay attention to the snogging you did. They'll pay attention to the downfall. "

He roughly brought her closer to his chest and she could feel the heat going on between them. The warmth was increasing with every second of silence that came between them. He said nothing but his eyes said everything. He felt something for her, the growing lust and frustration….it was beginning to be unbearable now…He had dreamed of her, and he would not admit it to himself when he woke up, trying to cloud Hermione as Pansy in his ache to have her beside him. He spent the rest of the night trying to fall asleep again, although he knew he could never fall asleep again. It was as futile as getting to have the 'mudblood', he had thought.

And now, he was this close to her, this close to telling her he had rather intense dreams of her last night in her lingerie, reading a book and then showering him with kisses only meant for lovers…he shook his head once. "Mudblood, you're strange, " and it was all he could say.

Hermione's brain began to run a thousand miles. Something was wrong, he would never say that- it was too simple- it was too kind...it was too…

"Do make the mistake of falling for me, " he finally said, with a satisfied smirk.

"Don't make the mistake of hurting because of me, " she retorted, suddenly seething, suddenly angered.

And then he grabbed her again and kissed her hard on the lips, hurting her and making her knees tremble all at the same time. She pulled away after a second.

"How dare you! " she spat out, her eyes yielding hurt and shock.

"Didn't think I would kiss you again? " Draco teased with another leer. " You'd better get used to it. You're going to be mine. "

"I don't get owned by anybody. "

"Not this time. "

"Then I'll own you as well, " she simply said. The bravado of it all shocked her. She never thought she would be that impulsive. " We'll see who wins. "

"You're turning this into another game of wits? This isn't Herbology or any subject for that matter, mudblood. "

"For starters, you can stop your juvenile teasing if you want to make me yours. "

"Giving me pointers on how to get laid? "

"I'll be more than a lay to you, I assure you. "

"How can you be more than a lay to me? Pansy goes dense when I kiss her, and I know you lost your brain awhile back, too. "

"Don't give yourself too much credit, Malfoy. "

"I don't. It's just as natural as it gets. You do know that I hate you, right? "

"Yes, and you do know that you can't resist me. "

Draco laughed hearing that. "Merlin, we're becoming humble now, aren't we? Snape was right, you are a show-off. " Draco felt a twinge of happiness surface and he quickly brushed it away. No way was he going to lose to this one. No way-

"Painfully one, " Hermione replied, unrifled. She was beginning to like this rather unfriendly conversation. He challenged her and she liked challenges. " Is that where you get your insults? From him? "

"He isn't here, now is he? It's all mine, one hundred percent origin- "

"You done bragging on how great you are? " she asked, spinning around. "This is getting boring. " She couldn't help but smile. It was actually fun teasing Malfoy.

Draco stopped halfway as she said that and he suddenly felt tiny pricks on his cheeks, red and tiny pricks. She was winning him over hands down. He stepped for her, ready to make her pay dearly, ready to make her knees buckle once-

"If you plan on kissing me again, forget it. Although yours weren't that bad, I've had better kisses. "

And Draco watched Hermione leave calmly, an expression of contentment on her face. He had never been this more enamored for anyone, yet he felt his teeth clench and his manhood impaired. He would get her.

Soon.

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**A/N: **Hello my dear readers, welcome to another Draco-Hermione tale. The length will depend on the flow, of course. I hope you've enjoyed the first chapter of this story, do wait for the next chapter. In this story, I've paid attention to the range of emotions and the psychological game of love, plus their young and raging hormones as compared to my previous story (THE CHEMICALS BETWEEN US), if you haven't read it, please do wink. It's been a long time since i made a fanfic on Harry Potter and i hope i deliver this story well, too.

As of now, i still don't have a BETA, so there might be mistakes, do forgive me. Criticism is highly needed for me to improve. So press that review button and fire away!


	2. Possibly Maybe

Possibly Maybe

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The first thing Draco could recall on how it all began was the taste of Hermione's lips on his. Sweet, reluctant and deep. Of course one cannot complain on how reluctance could be tasted, but Draco was Draco and he had afterall, forced Hermione into submission. Reluctance could be tasted much like hatred- hatred tasted like blood, and love with hatred tasted like a kiss with blood.

Some say that love knows no bounds, or people or wealth- even opposites attract. But Draco had one problem; he had all of those 'afflictions' aforementioned and he loved Hermione to the point of destruction.

It didn't start out simple enough where hate turned to love. It had its tremendous upsets, marred with emotional setbacks and denial. It was their last year in Hogwarts. She was Head Girl, while he was a prefect. He had his trials that day. He had just broken up with Pansy for, say, the hundredth time in their rocky, yet overused relationship the previous night- their first night in Hogwarts; actually.

It was the first month of September, when Slytherin lad and Gryffindor lass first had a strange sort of connection that would later shock the school year and the students, and even until they had all graduated.

He wanted to cram that morning for a test in Seventh Year Herbology, a requirement for the N.E.W.T.S, since the break-up last night resulted in a very foul Draco mood. He had spent the entire night sitting on his bed, throwing darts at a picture of Pansy, across the wall, which was waving at him fervently. He had managed to hit her squarely on the forehead only once, which resulted in his foulest mood among moods. He hit her nose too many times and chest, and he grumbled and Crabbe and Goyle, his 'still liberated' roommates, stayed out of his way.

He had other things to be angry about but the fight only came to be when Pansy mentioned something about his father and irked Draco to the point of an argument, with Pansy sobbing her eyes out while she kept apologizing. So what if she was afraid for him and his father? Lord Voldemort was going to have his heyday soon enough. That setback the previous year was toned down, thus no large scandal on his family's part as usual, only gossip here and there in selected circles. Draco knew his father's name was somehow tarnished, and he hated thinking of it and Pansy mentioning it was like a single grain of rice tipping a full bowl of it.

Of course, it was considered a legendary love-hate relationship in Hogwarts, what he and Pansy shared. Everyone thought they were destined for together. She; with her dark looks and snobbish bearing, and he, with his slick blonde hair and arrogant attitude. They were made for each other and that was that.

Draco had never considered Pansy as a potential wife. He dreamed too much of something better- he wanted other things than marriage and Pansy. There were more girls to shag and snog, people to make miserable with his poisonous remarks, he had not thought of more ways to serve Lord Voldemort inconspicuously, and he knew he should, for time was running out.

Pansy went all dreamy eyed at the slightest mention of becoming the future Mrs. Malfoy, seeing Draco everyday fueled it even more. She felt she was destined to become the next Malfoy matriarch, thought she would make the perfect housewife, imagined beautiful kids who looked like them both, all the while maintaining their appearance as the quintessence of pure bloodedness. She had only wanted to mention marriage to him and casually used his father's name to open up the topic.

"_Draco, I wonder…how is your father? " she asked as Draco lay on her lap in the Slytherin common room. _

_Draco frowned, suddenly feeling the discomfort from the mention of his father. "Why? " _

"_I just want to know, " she said, wondering what to say next to reach her desired conversation. " I've seen another printed article of him in the Daily Prophet and I've read that he's going to be detained again for- " _

_Draco got off of her lap and stared at her for a few milliseconds. "Didn't I tell you not to mention my father, ever? " _

"_Yes, I know, but as his future daughter-in-law- "_

" _His future fucking what? " his eyes began to seethe and memories of some things he had wanted to forget, had wanted to bury, began to resurface. It was of his father being questioned, their house ransacked as part of an Auror investigation, his father and mother detained, he being detained…pride was everything. _

_He stood up and walked away from her, saying nothing, while the other students in the Slytherin common room looked on, knowing it was going to be another war between the two. _

"_Dray- " Pansy called out, standing up to go after him. She held his shoulder and he snapped her hand away. Tears filled her eyes again and Draco felt more annoyed than ever. _

"_Bloody fecking Merlin! " he shouted, his Malfoy rage slowly engulfing him. " Don't touch me. I told you never to mention him, ever! Do you understand what that means? " He knew the others were looking on, but he didn't give a dram of saliva to them all. His anger today was for Pansy and Pansy alone. _

"_Draco, listen to me- I'm sorry, I didn't mean that, I won't do it again, I promise, I won't mention his name again- " _

"_You know, I always thought you weren't an intelligent sap, and this moment proves it. " _

_It hit her like a knife to the heart. She would live through this again, right? This was just another fight, another little 'big' argument that couples have, she would fix this quickly and be his again in no time…_

_Draco stalked for the boys' dormitory and Pansy stopped him by holding his hand. He glared at her, a most hurtful glare, full of malice, contempt and a death wish. " Stay away from me till I think you're good enough for me again. "_

_It was as simple as that. Draco left the room saying nothing else. Pansy cried. She would be good enough for him again a few days later. But while she waited, she waited with tears. _

Pansy's heartbreak ordeal was over in less than six days. Draco had been feeling cranky and thought sex would be a good way to get rid of his recent mood swing. His father had just owled him, saying how upset he was when he found out he wasn't made Head Boy. Titles were also everything, he thought as he asked a Slytherin female schoolmate to call Pansy from the girls' dormitory. He waited on the couch, knowing Pansy was now hurrying to look presentable, as she would be his property once more.

Pansy came down a few minutes later, with carefully made-up hair and a tinge of lipstick on her lips. Draco looked at her with his chin raised high. " I'm tired. I miss your company, " he said simply- near callousness.

Pansy was ecstatic. Pansy knew she was needed once more. And she relished the thought. Hours later, Hermione caught them behind some bushes and she was sent away so that Draco could deal with Head Girl. Of course she didn't mind. Draco was hers again.

Draco lost the standoff against Hermione that day. He cursed himself and hated himself for losing. She was going to be his, but at the length he was going through, Hermione becoming his property was more like a childhood dream.

He did not know how his obsession with her started. He was contemplating this, as he stood under the heat of the shower, alone and serious. She wasn't his type, definitely not. Well, her hair wasn't the dark color he liked- it was mudblood brown. He tired of blonde hair and had been contemplating to dye it- but he had to consider what his father thought about that too. He just had to keep this newfound liking to the mudblood to himself…and he wondered how long he could stand the pressure he was giving himself.

The mudblood was getting to him. Her scent, her intelligence, her…feistiness. She wasn't beautiful, he saw to that fact. In fact she was so plain looking to him, he also hated why he was attracted to her in the first place. No, she wasn't beautiful. She was not. Not. Not. Never. He had seen her and loathed her everyday for years along with her blood traitor boyfriend and holier-than-thou best friend. It wasn't attraction, he kept telling himself…but it was becoming an unhealthy obsession and deep down, he knew it.

Today was a Saturday, Quidditch practice with his team. First game was against Ravenclaw two weeks from now. An easy strike, since the Quidditch captain had gotten a severe punch in the face from him for saying he could beat Slytherin while closing his eyes. Of course, it had gone unreported, but everyone knew it was from Draco's ire. As soon as he was done, he took his broom and walked out of the Slytherin common room.

"Dray? " Pansy began, watching him as she sat with her fellow female friends on the Common Room couches.

"Quidditch practice, don't disturb me, " he said shortly.

She nodded subserviently and watched him carefully, also eyeing girls from younger years gawking at her boyfriend as he went out. She would have to talk to them later about keeping their eyes away from him.

Draco walked alone, since the rest of his team was there earlier than him. He liked his solitary walk down the Quidditch pitch. It gave him breathing room. A rest from everything related to what he hated. He heard hushed talking and giggling even. Someone was a fan of snogging as much as he was. He smiled sardonically. Without another thought, he barged into the bushes to see Ronald Weasley and Lavender Brown all over each other, clothes intact- much to his dismay. A growing anger flicked at him all of a sudden. He wanted to do something drastic. Like kill Ronald Weasley.

"I didn't know this room was full, " he said, keeping control of himself. He was not going to use the Avada on him, not now. Not yet.

"Holy Merlin! " Ron gasped while Lavender shrieked. They pulled themselves together and stood away from each other as quick as they could. Lavender had her eyes down and Draco wanted to kick some sense into the traitor…

"Morning exercise, fellow prefect? " Draco asked, keeping his smug look as he held his broom." You'd better work harder than with what I just saw. "

"This isn't your business, Malfoy, " Ron said, his ears burning red now.

"What if I make it mine? " he said, feeling a bit too harsh now. " I could report this to Professor- I mean, Headmistress McGonagall. "

"Are you threatening me? "

"No, " Draco replied, turning his back, all the while imagining that he was punching Ron's face, seeing his nose bleed and- " I'm just enjoying the fact that I've seen you at your utmost behavior. "

"If you mention this to anyone- " Ron seethed.

"Mentioned it to Hermione Granger, the mudblood, your ex? " he said, hating himself for mentioning her. But at that moment, he felt like sticking up to her.

Ron's face burned and so did Lavender's. Draco could see a twitch in Ron's forehead, his vein was about to burst out and he wanted to laugh at how stupid the bastard was along with his girlfriend- _didn't he realize that Hermione was way better_- he stopped his thoughts and raised his chin high.

" Concerned about Hermione? " Ron spat out, much to Lavender's dismay. She had wanted him never to mention her name when they were alone together- or with someone else.

"Why the feck should I be? But this will no doubt look good- I may become Hermione Granger's best friend now, a replacement from you, since you were such a prick to ruin a solid looking companionship in all your Gryffindor likeness, " he said sourly. He turned his back. " Do enjoy this place as much as you can and don't forget to lock the door and lower your gasping and groaning. " and he laughed aloud after he said that.

Ron took out his wand, brandishing it to Draco's back.

"Hex me and I'll see to it you're expelled, " Draco said as he left with a sneer. He suddenly felt refreshed, and ready to take on practice for the whole day. Nothing like a good verbal brawl to make his day worthwhile, he told himself.

They practiced till sundown and Draco beat his team mercilessly, imagining them to be either Ronald Weasley or Lavender Brown and sometimes Harry Potter- although he denied it again and again while having conversations all to himself.

When the practice finally ended as the sun began to set and Draco had said his last reminders, insulting their 'pathetic' routines in the process, he finally felt calmer. His team left him alone in the pitch and he was happy as he sat on the grass alone, waiting for the stars to come out. Mildew was forming; a mist was setting in around him.

The first thing that came into his mind was not a thing, but Hermione. He wondered what she was doing, if she was hexing Ron at the very moment and if Potter was still stupid enough to take sides with Ronald Weasel. He smiled to himself, imagining a good day of having Ron's prefect badge relinquished to the Head Girl and Headmistress McGonagall. He imagined setting Ron and Lavender up in some room shagging, where they were to be viewed by the entire Hogwarts population without them knowing. That would be a hell of a laugh.

He heard a rustling sound and took out his wand, immediately shooting out a hex. He missed Hermione by a millimeter and he could feel his heart pounding.

"The bloody hell do you think you're doing there! " he shouted at her, angry and still shaking from almost hurting her.

"I- I thought nobody was here- " she said, her voice faltering. He noted that he breathing was irregular. Near hyperventilation. Just like his breathing. Just like it…

"Well I am! " he mustered with all the severity he could. "Weren't you supposed to know that Slytherin's using the pitch for today? "

Hermione rolled her eyes, finally catching herself again. "It's not like I'm supposed to know such a trivial thing. I'm not the booker for your practices. "

"I thought you were Gryffindor's booker- Ronald Weasley's personal booker. " And Draco immediately regretted saying his name. So much for a patch-up!

Hermione's eyes darkened at the sound of Ron's name. She felt her teeth clench, her jaw set in place. She raised her chin high, ready to retort, but was at a sudden loss for words. She felt the corners of her eyes sting and she knew they were about to come. The goddamned tears she had been keeping all this time- stop! Stop! Stop!

Draco eyed her unsympathetically. He saw the tears pooling at her eyes and he knew she was trying hard to stop them from coming out. It would be humiliation because Draco Malfoy would then make fun of her for crying at such a pathetic thing, at such a pathetic love.

She turned her back from him and made up her mind that it was time for retreat. She said nothing more and started to walk.

"You can cry, " he said in a quiet voice.

She stopped in place. You can cry. It was as simple as that. Would he make fun of her? Goad her into having more pain? This was some trick. Some Draco Malfoy trick. She took a deep breath and faced him, tears finally spilling down her cheeks.

"I am, " she finally said, defeat evident in her voice. " You were the only one who said I could cry. "

Draco felt his empathy smother into her eyes as he looked at her, in all her vulnerability, all her Hermione weakness. This was the real her. Even Harry Potter had not seen this. Only he had. Only Draco Malfoy. And it was only at that moment that he understood why he had begun to fall for her in the first place. There was some unbidden sorrow in her, a suffering that made her beautiful only to the person who deserved to see that. There was this realness in Hermione that he did not have with anyone else. But he couldn't touch her.

And she cried with all the pain she had inside. She cried for the love that had been betrayed, cried for being stupid, cried for holding everything inside for so long. She cried softly, as how it should have happened between an empathizing Slytherin and a wounded Gryffindor.

After a long while, when all that was heard was sniffing, and finally Draco fished out a monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to her. She looked at him; her brown eyes red-rimmed and finally gave in, accidentally brushing her hand with his as she took his handkerchief. A shock fell through them both as their skins touched.

"Had enough? " he asked her.

"Of Ron or you or all this head aching crying? "

"All of the above. "

"Yes. "

"Then stop it. "

"Stop what? "

"Loving him. "

"That's easy for you to say. I don't throw away relationships that quickly, unlike you. "

"You get the hang of it. "

"I don't want to. I don't want to become harsh. I'm human. "

"Of course you are human. Mudbloods are so emotionally imbalanced when it comes to relationships. "

She didn't even flinch when he called her that. " I'll show you, you can be more than what we mudbloods are. You'll hurt so much you would want to die in the process of trying to heal. "

"Are you referring to yourself? "

"No, not really. "

"Not really but just a bit, huh? "

"Yes. "

"Stop loving him. Just stop. Forget he ever had a place in your heart. "

"And put you there instead of him? "

"I don't have to ask you to do that. You will. You already have. "

"Then stop loving Pansy. "

"I don't love her. Never loved her. She's just there to exist for camaraderie. "

"I don't want to be your camaraderie. "

"You'll be more than that, " he promised.

"Is sex with her that good? " she asked, shocked by her impulse to ask such a question.

"Why the curiosity? " he could feel the ends of his mouth curve.

"I won't be had for sex. "

"Come on. Don't tell me Ron never hit a home run with you, " and he was a bit irritated at the fact that Ron had skimmed his ugly hands everywhere on Hermione's body-

"No. "

His eyes blinked twice for it to register. Then he grinned. This was going to be easy. Easy prey. Easy lay. "Bleeding Merlin. He didn't know what he was missing on. The stupid sod- " he stopped. Ron wasn't supposed to be in this conversation.

Hermione kept his kerchief in her coat pocket. "You'll have this by tomorrow once it's cleaned. "

"Keep it. "

"I don't want anything you own with me. "

"I said keep it, " he growled.

She said nothing more and nodded. She could deal with this at another time. She gave him a small smile and confused him with what it meant.

"Don't thank me, " he said, looking at her eyes.

"Why not? "

"Because I'm still going to use you. I'm still going to have you, " Draco said simply.

Use you. Have you. How difficult could that be? And yet it was. And Hermione knew there was no turning back once she had struck a strange sort of companionship with Draco. It was going to be painful. But she wouldn't know how painful it would be until later. There were assumptions in her head, mostly of tumultuous days ahead of them. It had never occurred to her it would spiral out of control…and she thought she would be in control. Her control. Control over him.

He smiled at her again. Things were beginning to get quite interesting. He began to imagine undressing Hermione and he smiled, guilty with glee. He was going to have her. Oh, he was.

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A/N: So, yeah, leave me your words of wisdom. I need em.


	3. Hyper Ballad

**Hyper Ballad**

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It was an uneventful morning, with most of the Hogwarts students at the Quidditch pitch for a game between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. The Gryffindors were cheering for the Ravenclaws, determined to see them win for a good match against Gryffindors' own team. Only, Hermione wasn't there. Why spend time in a sea of raging hormones cheering for people on brooms? Well, she used to be enthusiastic- but…she just had a change of heart. A harsh change of heart.

She was alone, brooding as she conjured flames from her wand, changing the colors every now and then to suit her taste. First it was blue- then it became a fiery red…and then purple…and she scowled. Purple was as close to Lavender! She put the flame out and angrily threw rocks at the water near her instead.

They created ripples and in the ripples she saw distorted faces of those who had hurt her. Distorted to the point of never seeing them regain their true faces- she stopped and told herself to calm down. She screamed to herself that it was a childish matter, holding grudges and hatred… but being childish suddenly felt good to the ego.

"Fancy meeting you here. How convenient. "

She looked around and saw the Slytherin prince clad in a dark coat and black slacks. He looked fresh- fresh from sex, that is.

"You look impressively full of yourself, " she said simply.

He pretended to be hurt, clutching his chest in opera-like manner. " But- but Granger- I've just had the most wonderful moment in my juvenile life. "

"A shag with Pansy? "

"Bingo. "

"How predictable. That's all you ever do, aside from everything else. "

He felt infuriated. "The hell- what do you mean by predictable? Someone like you? Now that's what I call bloody predict- "

"Either shag or snog. When you don't do that, you make others feel miserable, when you're not doing that either, you challenge everyone to a childish game of name calling- "

He smiled hearing that. Recognition was everything. But the childish part stung a bit. Leave it to Granger to challenge him…" But I don't start it. They provoke me. You provoke me. "

"Tell that to Harry. "

He laughed aloud hearing that. Finally. Someone who challenged him. Someone nearly equal…but not quite. And he wondered what shagging would be like with a feisty bookworm…he shook his head and grinned. "I like you, " he said without much feeling. " You're different. "

"I like you too. You're the perfect example of what I should hate. "

He suddenly grabbed her and skimmed his lips over her cheek and she could feel her body responding to something she had never felt before. He was breathing on her neck- and he resisted the urge to kiss it. This neck had to be his. He didn't know how longer he could stand the thought of not having her, not owning her. Images of passion flooded his mind, replacing everything he had done with Pansy. Only of Hermione. Everything was Hermione. And reality came back like a slap to the face. He let go of her, his breathing suddenly ragged just like hers. He took a quick step back, unable to believe the thoughts inside his head.

"I don't know how long I can take this, " he muttered, still staring at her lips, her eyes…her…

She said nothing as her fingers found its way up to her lips. "I don't know what to do anymore…" she admitted. " This has got to stop. "

His eyes glared red now. "Stop? " She was telling him to stop? How could he? How could he stop when everything he saw- even when he did it with Pansy- was her now?! "You're asking me to do something I don't think I can. " His words were controlled but the rage was there.

"You have to. This is going to- "

He grabbed her again, wanting to see the words come out of her mouth closer to his eyes. "This is going to what? " he whispered on her lips.

"Going to destroy us both…" Hermione mumbled, unable to take her eyes off of his pale, silvery ones.

"Then let it, " he said in one breath. Without another thought, he kissed her and she resisted initially but then started kissing back. Her hand fisted on Draco's chest and he held it, squeezing it softly with his hand as he kept on kissing her.

She didn't resist this time.

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Harry busily scanned the other areas of the Quidditch pitch, determined that Hermione was with other Hogwarts friends. Perhaps she was with a close prefect from Ravenclaw. But she wasn't there, no matter how many times he had kept scanning the sea of faces. He eyed Ron who was enjoying the game as much as Lavender. Harry suddenly felt awful.

He had looked for her that morning, determined to end the silent feud between the three of them, and if not for the three of them, then just for his friendship and Hermione's. He had searched for her everywhere, from the library, to the common room, to the prefect's office. Hermione was nowhere to be seen. So he resigned himself to watching the game with Ron and Lavender in tow, much to his chagrin- for despite Lavender's zest, he still preferred Hermione's biting remarks about the game than Lavender's estrogen screaming.

"Bloody-! Did you see that Harry? What a pass! " Ron hollered amid the cheers and boos. "If the Ravenclaws are going to keep up with this game, we might fight against them in the finals! "

Harry nodded and grinned a bit, his thoughts suddenly distracted from thinking of Hermione- to dreaming about the finals. Ron had said it so positively, his enthusiasm was infectious. Dream big, that was how to win…fight hard and that was how to be a champion. If Ravenclaw won this game, then they would fight against Slytherin and if they won against Slytherin, then Gryffindor and Ravenclaw would meet at the finals- unless Slytherin was going to have a few nasty tricks up its sleeve, as always.

"I don't see Hermione anywhere, " Harry suddenly said, without second thought. "She should be here to enjoy it with us. "

And Ron and Lavender immediately stopped cheering. Sullen looks replaced their faces and Harry had by then realized why he should have had second thoughts about saying it. Harry looked at each of them for a few moments and then cleared his throat. "Nice game, huh? "

He said as Ravenclaw's seeker caught the snitch. Ron nodded, but there was no enjoyment in it. Lavender's expression had by then gone acerbic.

The Ravenclaw team had won, but it was as if they never cheered, it was as if they were never happy in the first place. Lavender clutched Ron's hand tightly, steering him away from Harry. The game had ended and screams were loud, but nothing was louder than the anger present in Ron's eyes and in Lavender's. They were slowly moving away from Harry now, away from the crowds and happiness, like they never wanted Harry with them in the first place.

Shock came first. Then it was replaced with anger, as Harry watched Lavender lead his best friend away from him. His brows furrowed at the submission Ron gave to Lavender. This wasn't how it was supposed to be! Ron would never allow this to happen, not even Hermione could- he stopped. Of course. Lavender was no Hermione.

"I'll see you later, Harry, " Ron dully said as Lavender held his hand tightly, with her eyes still glaring at Harry.

Harry nodded slowly, as he couldn't say anything else. This was horrible. No, wait- not horrible, this was like best friend hell.

Lavender stopped dragging Ron once they had reached the stairs where no one else was yet. She let go of his hand roughly.

"What the hell was that, Lavender? " he asked, near frustration.

"What do you mean 'what the hell was that'? " she said, ready to accuse him. "That has got to stop, you know. All the references to Hermione... it has got to stop! "

"I did not say anything relating to Her- "

"Harry does it all the time! And I think he's doing it on purpose. "

"Harry isn't that kind of person, Lavender. It was a slip of the- "

"I don't like slips! It has got to stop, Ron! Do you hear me? You tell him that! You tell him that! " Lavender stopped, seeing someone else enter the staircase's landing.

Ron spun around to see Harry, his green eyes dark and his facial expression suddenly aloof. He curtly nodded to them both. "I'll see you later, Ron. " And he left, just as the rest of the Gryffindors began to exit their stand.

Ron looked at Lavender, suddenly furious. He grabbed her arm despite her protests and led her to a quiet part of the Quidditch pitch, underneath the Gryffindor's stands. "I don't like where this is going, Lavender. "

"And what is that supposed to mean? " she asked him haughtily.

"I've already lost Hermione- "

She took a step back from him, pointing an accusing finger. "I knew it! You still have feelings for her! You were lying to me all this time, you- "

He was shouting now. "I meant I've already lost her as a friend! I don't intend to lose Harry too! They're still my best friends, Lavender! "

"And what about me? Don't I mean anything to you? "

"Yes! That was why I hurt Hermione…by cheating on her so I could be with you! " Ron sputtered out.

"Am I supposed to feel guilty for this? Remember, when people cheat, it just isn't the action of one. It's the action of both. You love me better than her, Ron. That's why we're together, " she said in a suddenly quiet voice. "If you love someone, you're bound to do anything- even if it hurts the others. That's what's happening to us, Ron. We love each other; that is why the others are hurting. "

Ron was quiet after she said it. Of course, she was right. He was a willing conspirator to cheat on Hermione. Perhaps…perhaps he loved Lavender this much...but there was still that nagging voice in his head saying that something was wrong. Well of course something was; he just couldn't prove it yet.

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The realization that she was kissing Draco Malfoy came again and she quickly pushed him away, a hand on her forehead, her breathing irregular, her hands were shaking terribly.

His eyes grew wide. And he thought she was enjoying it! The bloody hell of it all! He thought she enjoyed it! "What the hell did you do that for? "

"I- I'm kissing you! I'm not supposed to be kissing you! "

"Since when did that become a rule? " he said, brushing the hideous sounding comment aside. "You were responding with great pleasure. "

"I was not! "

"Don't lie to me. It doesn't suit you at all. "

"Like you weren't responding with immense pleasure, too, " she said sourly. "I suppose; I was the only one who made you feel that way, I'm sure even Pansy couldn't do it. "

It hit Draco like a knife through the heart. The cunning little bitch. "And so you're correct on that matter. Are you proud of being able to arouse me, then? "

Her face became a bit red. "As a matter of a fact, I- I am. " She felt disgusted with admitting that. She felt like a nymphomaniac…well, not that she was one…she had never been one! But being with Draco was like playing with fire…

"Does he enter your mind when I kiss you? "

"You've only kissed me twice. "

"Ah, you keep track of it, " he said with a smile.

She immediately regretted saying it. She looked away and breathed in deeply; fearful she would lose her temper and hex Malfoy's lights out.

"Well, does he? " he repeated, suddenly irritable this time.

"Yes, " she replied.

His eyes burned and the silver in his irises tinged with red. "He does? " he said in a soft voice. "You love him that much. "

"I loved him. Past tense, if you still recall grammar, " she corrected calmly.

"Syntax has got nothing to do with love, " he said through gritted teeth.

"Glad you know your jargon, " she told him.

"I told you to stop loving him. "

"You're not the boss of me to keep saying that. If I told you to stop having a relationship with Pansy, would you? " she challenged him, raising her chin high.

"Yes."

Well that was unexpected, she thought, unable to challenge him further.

"You want me to turn my back on what I believe in? Forget you were a Gryffindor and Potter's friend? Would you want me to forget that I was a Slytherin too? I would, only to you. "

He saw the change in her eyes, they began to soften, and hell did they look beautiful as they did. He never thought he'd see them change into a different color, but they did.

"You'd do that? "

He didn't nod or give confirmation. He would not repeat it again. There was no necessity to saying it again. She would either gloat or…gloat, and ruin his plans in the process. All it took was a little easing up to her.

"I never thought you'd say that, " she whispered, unable to look at him, unable to believe that Draco Malfoy was telling the _truth_ in her face.

"I have. Past tense, " he said with a tiny smile.

She finally let out a smile as well. Past tense. Yes, it was past. Perhaps it was time to love someone new. It would be a challenge to have feelings for someone difficult to love. Well was he difficult to love?

"I'm difficult to love, " he said, as if reading her mind. "Trust me, I know myself. Even Pansy hasn't understood me yet, in all our years of- immense pleasure. " He sniggered at the last two words.

"I like challenges. "

"I'm not a challenge.

"If you're difficult to love, then you are. "

"I wish I had another body, so I could watch this conversation we're having from the sidelines, " he suddenly said.

"What? " Hermione said, baffled by his side comment.

"I want to watch this from afar. I mean, I can't believe I'm having a conversation with you, a nice one at that. I want to see this without being near you. It gives it a sort of- flair. "

Hermione laughed. "Draco Malfoy, using the word 'flair'… "

"Tell that to someone and I'll hex you good. "

"Threatening me now. "

"No, just warning you. "

"Any other warnings? "

"Well, I'm a damn good kisser, " he said.

She laughed again and he liked hearing her laugh. It was as if all the problems in the world had gone every time she'd laugh. He wished it would last forever, well forever to his terms of forever. Perhaps it was just a fascination, and he prayed that it would be just that. But something else, that little voice in his head; it told him that this was going to be more than that. That this was going to be something he would either regret or regret. He remembered an old quote, something his mother once shared, no matter how indifferent she may have seemed.

_Si vis amaria, ama, _If you want to be loved, love.

It was as simple as that, but it was difficult in reality. He wanted Hermione to be crazy for him and not the other way around. He was going to win this, win her love- without loving her too much to the point of hurting himself in the future. Well, he had to think of the future. Even when he was alone, he had thought of a good future for himself…

"Any more warnings? " she asked, breaking his trail of thoughts.

"Well…I'm a damn good lover, " he breathed out lamely, unable to think of anything else. But she laughed again, much to his enjoyment.

"I hope to see that, " she told him. "I have to go. "

"Go where? "

"Back to my room," she replied.

"For what? More moments of boredom? Why don't you…stay here for awhile? " he asked her consciously, not looking at her. He was suddenly interested in this wonderful piece of stone near his shoe. He took it and threw it up and down, catching it with his hand. He finally threw it across the water near them and it skipped he water's surface five times.

"You want me to stay? " she said, a bit surprised.

"Well, if you want to, " he said, looking a wee bit annoyed that she had to ask that and that he had to respond.

"I'll stay if you want me to stay, " she replied, suddenly feeling the amusement of teasing Draco. She was trying to hide her smile from him. But he got the gist of it.

"Are you mocking me? "

"No, " she replied, stifling a giggle. "Just asking. I mean- if you want to be alone- then all you have to do is- "

"I don't, okay! I want you to stay, " he spat out. "Is that what you want to hear? "

She was laughing inside, but she pretended to be annoyed. "Well, if you're that angry at me for just asking- "

"Stop it. Stay, " his voice lowered and he grabbed her hand. "Stay here and let's contemplate on our sins and all that crap. "

She laughed. "So you do like me that much. "

"Don't be too full of yourself, Granger, " he said as he sat down a tree stump, his hand still lingering on hers. He never let go. She didn't even notice it.

"I'm not, " she shook her head innocently.

He finally found himself smiling. "Merlin, you really are full of yourself. "

"Well, look who's talking, " she said, rolling her eyes. And she took a seat beside him on the round tree stump, wondering why fate had brought her this. Silly fate.

"Stay with me, " he murmured all of a sudden, still not looking at her, but his grip on her hand had considerably tightened. His eyes were concentrated on the lake, pools of black and blue mirrored into his silver ones, darkening them with undulating tones.

Hermione did and she just closed her eyes, listening to the wind and Draco's breathing. Suddenly, she felt that she belonged here. Just right beside him. Not beside Ron, the crummy bastard…but with Draco…

Suddenly he stood up. Her eyes flew open and she saw him grinning. "Well, I guess that's it. "

"What? " she said, a bit shocked. What the hell was going on?

He smiled at her, as if trying to say he was sincerely sorry- but the smile turned out to be the ugliest one Hermione had seen that day. It was a smile of malice. Absolute bloody…malice.

"That's it. The day is done, " he told her, turning his back. " I enjoyed the moment, " he added, facing to give her a wink. The wink was scheming. It was vile. She hated him that instant with all of the hate she had stored in the innards of her emotions. "See you. "

And he was gone.

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A/N: So yeah, this is basically a Christmas story, but it's going to expand soon enough. god knows if this is going to be as long as my previous fanfic. I'm afraid that this story might be disliked (so much for high hopes). Give me some Christmas love, some reviews and i won't upset you. Thanks to all those who have begun to put this on alert, i'm more than grateful.

to: DulceSoulSeeker- Thank you for that suggestion. I have kept that in mind. , Wudelfin- hurrah. they're in character, KuteKilalaKittee- happy ending for this story? hmm...

PRESS REVIEW BUTTON!

oh yeah,** Meri Kurisumasu!!!!!**


	4. It's in our hands

**It's in our hands **

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He was smiling, whistling as he headed away from her. All in a day's work… That was how to do it. Tease the lass; make her hate him so that she'd love him insufferably. All it took was a little annoyance. Anytime now, anytime…Draco counted to ten slowly in his head, still smiling all the while.

One. Two. Three. Four.

Hermione stood up, holding her fists on each side, wishing that he'd never been born. Her eyes clouded over with the humiliation and fury mingled in it now.

Five. Six. Seven.

She took a step forward, ready to berate him for being so selfish, for being so callous, for being so- unbearable!

Eight. Nine…

He was ready to turn around, tease her again for falling for that ploy so quickly, knowing the look on her face. Anger suited her. Nothing better than a bookworm filled with rage. It was a major turn-on.

Ten.

He spun around and saw…no one was there. The bloody miscalculation?! He glared at the empty spot where he expected Hermione to be. She wasn't there! The bloody Granger wasn't there! What the hell-!

He fumed now, knowing she had hit back at him for such a lowlife conduct. He felt his anger grow, as his cheeks reddened with the realization that she had gotten back at him. Instead of her at his mercy, it had turned the other way around!

He searched for her of course, ready to get even- but she was nowhere within his rage now. She might have gone into another area to escape him, laughing her little adorable ass off. He cursed and swore and wished she'd turn into a louse for such an act! In the end, there was nothing he could do.

_Damn you, Hermione. _

And he left the area feeling his ego bruised to black and blue

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She knew it was a ploy to get her self-esteem jangled up. Boy, he was good at it. How she hated him. But still, she couldn't help but admire him. No one challenged her before. Something Draco did- never occurred with the other boys she had dated, not even with Ron. It was infuriating but fun, somehow. And she couldn't help (yet again), but be drawn to it. Draco was Draco. A simple looking person with a very complex personality... He acted like a prince, acted like he owned everyone. That was his aim for her. He kissed her to possess her. But Hermione had plans up her sleeve. He wasn't the only one who could use and abuse.

Perhaps, it was having her heart broken that Hermione responded with such fury at having to annoy Draco and seeing him go sallow and sour. Perhaps, it was betrayal that made Hermione want to see if she could play with someone else's emotions. The person that had come close to that description was Draco. But it was harder than she thought. Right, a challenge, she reminded herself. It was a lighthearted challenge, nothing that included life and death…well maybe a few hexes in the near future and bloody lips, but no death involved. Hermione could see him bending before her in her mind's eye. It was fun to imagine things with a person who amused one's irritation.

_Damn you, Draco. _

She had reached the wooden walkway, connecting to another entrance into Hogwarts, and he saw a brooding figure, brows furrowed and eyes concentrated in thought. It was a look that earned him a growing fan base, much to the young man's annoyance. He looked up and his eyes danced with relief to see her.

"Hermione, " he said, facing to meet her.

She nodded. "Hello Harry. "

His green eyes looked into her brown ones. "Are you alright? " he said cautiously.

She smiled at him convincingly. "Never been better. "

There was something that alerted Harry in her movements. She was agitated…or was she? Perhaps…she was hiding something. Every instinct in Harry told him something wasn't right. But of course, he couldn't prove it right away. And Hermione was speaking to him now. But there was a good improvement. She had smiled. That was what mattered now. It was a home run for a mended friendship, well; at least that was how he saw it.

"Sure, then? "

"Yes, I'm sure. "

"I'm sorry, " Harry quickly said.

Hermione blinked, a bit surprised by his sudden apology. She looked at his troubled green eyes now, guilt playing along the hues of green.

"I'm- I just tried to play on the safe side…I didn't want to hurt you and I didn't want to betray Ron too. I know it was stupid but I can't stand the idea of the three of us being separated by something that's trivial compared to Voldemort. "

She smiled a bit. Ah, Harry's pattern of thinking. She had wondered why she couldn't stay angry at Harry for long and then she knew it was never in Harry's character to betray people he respected. She wondered how long this peace between them would last- before Ron and Lavender would mess it up again. Well, how negative of her, but who gave an arse about it?

"It's okay Harry, " she said slowly. "I hope it doesn't happen again. "

"It won't, " he said firmly. "It's just that- I can't stand the three of us not being….three. "

She nodded grimly, trying to understand that she and Ron were friends first, before they became lovers. But she wished- she suddenly, violently wished that she had never fallen for Ron during their fourth year. Suddenly, the special moments she had spent with Ron while they were still together, now seemed like a bad dream to her. There was never a 'them', never an 'us'. He had liked Lavender beforehand. She was just a trial and error for Ron. She then smiled at Harry.

"It's okay, Harry, really. "

"You think? "

"Well, I'm a bit tired of thinking today, " she said with a smile.

He laughed gaily and shook her hair with one hand.

She laughed and fixed her hair. "You know Harry, my hair is a big part of me, " she began.

"Doesn't look hideous at all, trust me, " he grinned at her. "Are you still using that hair thing? "

She shook her head. "No, thank Merlin. It's all natural now. " She smiled at him and then the uncomfortable silence came in without warning.

"Do you hate Ron? " Harry asked in one breath.

Her head snapped up. She clutched the wooden rail in front of her without meaning to. It was as if she was trying to find support. "Hate is a strong word, Harry, " she finally said.

"Is it? " Harry said, unable to look at her.

"Let's not discuss this. It's going to ruin our newly patched-up friendship, " she sighed. "Harry, honestly, I'd like to kill Ron, but that's all I'll say for now. "

Harry nodded. "Want to get some cookies with me? I'm up for cookies and hot cocoa from the elves- and don't say anything related to S.P.E.W. "

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She had awoken early again, just like the previous days. It seemed that her body clock had changed, as had her moods. She always woke up before five in the morning and listened to the feminine snores of her roommates for a few minutes before venturing out for her morning rituals.

She stood up and took her bathrobe and towel and headed for the common bathroom within their room. The warm water refused to wake her so she stood still, allowing herself to be soaked, thinking of nothing. She got out about 10 minutes later, stirring a roommate.

"Bloody Mary, Hermione. Get some sleep, " she mumbled, burying her head into the sheets once more.

Hermione said nothing and she watched her roommate fall asleep again, against the dim light coming from the windows. She decided to wear her uniform and to take an early morning walk in around the lake. Classes wouldn't start until eight-thirty in the morning. Plenty of spare time to feel self-pity and hatred…she had bad dreams, really, she did. Sometimes they were about Ron and her, breaking up in front of the whole school, and everyone mocked her till she cried blood. Who could sleep again with such a dream? She definitely couldn't.

She used one of the back entrances and made her way down a little slope, landing in Hagrid's vegetable patch. She could hear his snores reverberating throughout his little hut, along with the snores of his outsized dog.

It was a cold morning and she could feel the cold air seeping through her layers of clothing. She rubbed her gloved hands together rapidly, as she made her way down and into a small patch of trees. The sun had just begun to rise, covering the sky with hues of light pink and purple.

She suddenly felt a whole lot better than when she had taken her shower. Nature healed, she thought, remembering Madame Pomfrey's words during her fourth year in Hogwarts. For Hermione Granger, solitary walks were a refuge. Trees wouldn't betray you, grass wouldn't spit at you and snow wouldn't scar your heart. She kept walking, hugging herself, not minding her surroundings, only the ground she stepped on.

And then she bumped into something- or someone.

Draco Malfoy.

He looked up, glaring at her for disturbing his peace, his asylum of being unaccompanied. And he saw her eyes, mirroring his own. They both wanted peace. And peace was achieved through being alone. But they weren't so alone now…

"What the hell are you doing here? " he spat out.

"N-nothing, " she stammered, apparently shocked by seeing him. "What the hell are you doing here? "

He didn't look at her. "I wanted some time alone, " he mumbled. "You can't get that in the dormitory. "

She nodded, internally agreeing to what he had just told her. He stared at her for a bit, just a bit and then he turned away again.

"Did you mean it? " she asked. "When- when you kissed me yesterday. "

"I bloody meant everything. "

"You don't have to be so angry. "

"I'm not. "

"Your tone says otherwise. "

"So what if it does? " he snapped.

"Don't be like that. Stop trying to be difficult. "

"I thought you liked a challenge. "

"It gets tiring after a while. Can you stand being angry forever? "

"I've been like this for eighteen years and no one cared a bloody shite about it. "

"Well, now someone does. "

"Bloody holy grail, Hermione! Stop getting to me. "

"I thought you wanted me to get to you. "

"I- I do! But- "

"But…what? "

"You're- this- this is torture! "

"You said my name, " she finally said.

He looked at her again and then sighed. "So what if I did? That's your name, right? "

"I was expecting 'mudblood'. "

"You were expecting everything mean. I'm not feeling mean today, " he said without much kindness.

"That's thoughtfulness from you, " Hermione said wryly.

His head snapped up, his silvery eyes glaring at her. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you? I'm trying to communicate effectively to you! "

Hermione stared at him for a few seconds and then she started laughing hysterically. Draco's rage fueled as her laughter rang through his ears, reverberating happiness and exasperation. Then to his surprise, the corners of his mouth twitched and then he began laughing too. It took them a few more seconds to laugh before it gradually died down, leaving them in an awkward state of quiet, eased only by diminutive smiles from both parties.

"I like you, Granger, " he finally said.

"Like, as in you've found a new form of respect for me? Or- like, as in you think I'm the best example of what a witch is supposed to be and you've just realized that now? "

"Both, " he grinned.

"Fine, I like you too, " she retorted with a smirk.

"We're not exactly friends now, are we? "

"Friends…that word is funny. I think of everyone as either my ally or my enemy. "

"Am I your ally then? "

"I suppose you could be more than that. Would you betray me in the future? " he asked her brusquely.

"It's the future, I wouldn't know. It could be the other way around. "

"Trust me, you won't have the guts to betray me. "

"Here we go again with your inflated blonde ego. "

He laughed. "That wasn't half bad for a muggle joke. "

"I'm still a witch. "

"It wasn't a bad joke, then. "

"Why did you hate me? "

"You think I don't hate you now? " he replied with a smile. He saw her eyes and her serious demeanor and he sighed. "Who couldn't hate you? You were everything Slytherin wanted in a student, a person. And you just had to be a goody-two shoes and a Gryffindor. Honestly, if I were the sorting hat, I'd put you in my house, you'd be ruthless…the epitome of everything nasty and cunning. "

"Thank Merlin's balls, then. "

"Why Ron Weasel? I mean, Weasley? "

She looked at her shoes for a moment, slowly moving for a large root from an oak tree to sit on. He took a seat near her, using another overgrown root. She sighed and looked at him for a bit.

"Because he was nice. He still is- I know some part of that niceness still exists. "

"He's a bloody fraud. "

"I loved that bloody fraud. "

"I told you to stop loving him. "

"I have. "

"I don't want you hurting for him. Anymore, " his voice turned low, almost like a snarl and a whisper of aggravation.

"I'm not. "

"You're the worst liar I've ever met. "

"You're the worst truth I've ever seen. "

He laughed again and she gave a tiny smile. "I hate it when you're better than me, nobody should be better than me. "

"Aside from trying to be better than me, what do you intend to do with our friendship? "

"You really think we're friends? "

"Well, you're talking to me in a civilized manner- and you were laughing at my jokes…so yeah…I guess we are."

"And that led you to think we're friends? " His brow rose up a bit. "I'd like to think of you as mine, though. I like being selfish. "

"Like I'm an object? " Hermione said, an eyebrow raised now.

"You're going to be my sex object, " Draco said nonchalantly. "Every time I'm going to ask for sex in the future, you're going to object. "

"Did you just say a joke? " she said, unable to contain her laughter.

"Depends on how you saw it, " he replied seriously. "You kiss better than Pansy, " he added without much of an afterthought.

Hermione's eyes narrowed a bit. What the hell did he mean by that? He was comparing her to Pansy now? If she didn't know any better-

"I'm not comparing you to her. It's just a fact. I'm not acting partial and I'm not inflating your self-esteem, " he said. "How would you like to have another round of this tomorrow morning? "

"Round of what? This senseless talking? "

"This is the senseless kind of talking that you would approve of, " Draco told her. "I'm sure you'd like to get to know more of my Slytherin qualities, as I would like to get to know more of yours. "

"No cheapskate tricks? No Draco vices? "

"There's a new type of vice now? " he said, laughing. "Draco vices…sounds nasty, Granger. I wish I'd be that notorious to have a vice named after me. "

"Seriously. "

"I'm serious. Cross my good old silver heart and hope to die a most horrible death if I ever do make a pass on you. "

"Should I shake your hand to seal that? "

"I prefer you kissing me."

"Malfoy! "

He extended his hand with another grin on his sly mouth as she extended hers reluctantly. They shook hands and he held her hand in his for awhile.

"Let go, " Hermione hissed.

"I'm flirting passively with you. "

"There's no such thing as passive flirting! "

"It's a Draco Malfoy vice. "

Hermione began to laugh. She now had him eating at the palm of her hand.

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A/N: What will happen next? predictions are open of course. so go press that review button.

So another chapter quite delayed for the new year. Tell me, what does it take to have a story that grabs into your gut to move you? haha. i've had quite a rough start this year (blah blah), but i'm thankful to anyone who's taken the time to read this chapter. do wait for more. thank you.


	5. I see who you are

**I see who you are **

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After that delightful conversation with Hermione, Draco knew nothing could ruin his day. He breezed through his first class, pretending to listen as usual except that the wheels in his head now moved in reverse. Where he used to imagine things like how to serve Lord Voldemort and how to make others miserable, he now thought of conversations with Hermione in his mind's eye. Draco was a man of many words, but he chose to show it to only those who had hit a home run in his innards. Hermione was the best innards blow yet. Even Pansy's extraordinary bed tricks disappeared as he thought of Hermione's smile.

"Oy, " Blaise whispered to him during their third class for the morning. Draco looked sideways as Professor Sprout droned on with her tales of battles with dangerous plants in India. "You alright? "

"Why? " Draco muttered back.

"You're not yourself. "

"How the hell would you bloody know? "

"Your eyes are weird. "

"Bugger off. "

"Pansy might notice and take you away on another rollercoaster wile. "

Draco paused. He had forgotten about that _tiny_ fact. Of course, Pansy's intuition as a woman was the best he'd seen of yet. Even his mother's intuition couldn't match Pansy's. Pansy would know something was going on if he kept being careless.

"Mr. Zabini? "Professor Sprout called. "Any questions? "

Blaise flashed a smile that made other girls look at him. He was a charmer, Zabini. "I was just wondering…if the plant you were talking about could detect movements made by beings other than humans. " A stupid question, but it would do the trick.

"Well, yes! Yes of course! It has been known to swallow up local deer whole, now if you remember your basic dangerous plants classifications…" Sprout droned on as Blaise nodded without talking anything into his system. He looked at Draco once more and noticed that his eyes shifted into a defense mode. _The things Draco did to keep things from everyone else…_

Classes for the morning had ended now and everyone headed for the Great Hall. It buzzed with activity and laughter as the students and professors ate together for the hour long lunch break. Harry was seated a bit far from Ron and Lavender, the incident of overhearing Lavender and Ron talking about him, still fresh in his mind. He was stuck in between Neville and Ginny.

"Are you and Ron fighting again? " Ginny whispered, taking a pitcher full of milk and pouring it into her bronze goblet.

Harry shrugged. "Don't spoil my appetite, please. "

Ginny huffed. "I just want a yes or a no. "

"Isn't it obvious? "

"If this is about Hermione again- "

"No, it's not, " Harry replied firmly as Neville grabbed for some strips of fish with gravy in front of them.

"Want some? " Neville asked good-naturedly.

Harry shook his head politely. "You take it. I just want a sandwich. "

Ginny shook her head, apparently irritated with the happenings between Harry and her older brother. Things weren't so good after the bad breakup Ron and Hermione had. She wasn't too keen with Lavender as her prospective sister-in-law. She had seen it coming though, that it would create some rift between the 'Golden Trio's' supposedly solid friendship. Perhaps if she found a way to bring them back together, maybe things would be normal again...of course Lavender would be a challenging obstacle to her thoughts. She was never really that familiar with Lavender and had preferred Hermione a thousand times over upon knowing that her 'loyal' brother had replaced Hermione.

She looked at Harry again as Harry eyed Lavender and Ron whispering something in each other's ear. She took a bowl full of green salad and placed it in front of Harry's nose. "Eat something else aside from that stupid sandwich. "

Harry frowned and took the bowl and placed it in front of him. He chewed down a forkful of greens with Italian dressing.

"I don't want you getting into more fights, " Ginny told him quietly as she watched Lavender and Ron a few feet away from where they were sitting.

"Ginny, I can't stand the thought that we're being replaced, " he said, giving emphasis to the last word.

"Well, I'm not replacing you anytime. I'm a redhead that'll hang about, " she said, miffed at his comment.

Harry turned to her and gave a small grin. "Sorry Gin. "

Harry elbowed her jokingly as he ate more of the salad Ginny gave him. You could always count on the only female Weasley to turn things around for you. They had broken up a year ago due to concerns on Voldemort and his Deatheaters. He had even contemplated of not attending his last year but a change of plans had come, circumstances allowed Hogwarts to still remain relatively safe under Professor McGonagall's strict but warm guidance. Ginny still had a soft spot in his heart and vice versa, although they were never an official couple even since September's opening. It was something Harry was contented at, their special friendship and all, as was Ginny.

Ginny smiled at him. "I'm glad to see your pearly whites flashing in front of my eyes. "

A few hundred feet across, the Slytherin table was full of prattling, Draco listening halfheartedly to

Pansy's complaints on the fattening Hogwarts food, to which he wished he could hex her to muteness.

"Honestly, Draco, all this whipped cream for dessert is making me unfit. "

"Complain then, " he sighed, unable to get Hermione's face out of his mind. He wondered what tomorrow would bring- if they would get into another heated argument just like what had happened earlier. "Like those bloody elves would change the recipes. "

"I hope they would. Our house elf cooks better than these stupid Hogwarts elves, " she said twirling a bit of her dark hair.

Draco said nothing as he gulped down a glass full of water. Pansy was getting increasingly boring. He wondered how he could break it to her that he had found someone more suitable for him…well of course he would break his silence when he was ready to lose it all, his family and friends…but he had an inkling it would never happen, if it did…he would make Hermione pay for his losses. Such was his pattern of thinking, a mixture of denial, fear and excitement. He had never felt more alive in his whole life than this moment, even without her around.

He saw her breeze into the Great Hall at the corner of his eye and he resisted the urge to gaze at her. Instead his grip on his goblet considerably tightened and so did his muscles. He felt tense all of a sudden. He wasn't supposed to feel tense.

Hermione made her way down to the Gryffindor area, not bothering to look at the Slytherin table for fear that she might laugh and cause a commotion. She sat across Harry and Ginny, deliberately not looking at Ron's and Lavender's direction. She smiled as she sat down, resisting the urge to giggle.

"You're in high spirits, " Ginny remarked.

"Tests have been good, " she replied without a blink.

"Tests are always good for you, " Neville groaned.

"If you studied- " Hermione began.

Harry laughed and shoved a bowl full of salad in front of her. "Eat. Please eat. Don't talk and don't talk. "

Hermione laughed and took the bowl from him. "I will, don't worry. "

"I hope you did your homework for Potions, " Harry said. "Cause I didn't. "

"Best be thankful that Snape isn't the Potions professor anymore, " Ginny said with a frown.

Harry looked at her and sighed, remembering the awful night that Snape had raised arms and stormed Hogwarts with his fellow Deatheaters, killing Dumbledore in the process. He shook his head. "Evokes bad memories, Gin. "

"Sorry, " Ginny quickly said, holding his shoulder for a second.

"That's done, " Hermione said, looking at Harry's eyes, wondering if he still felt some sense of loss after a full year behind them. "I'd rather you concentrate on what you want to be after we graduate from Hogwarts. "

"Auror, " Ginny immediately replied proudly. "I'm going to be the best Auror yet. "

"You have one more year Gin, " Harry reminded her.

"I'm planning, " she quipped with a smile. "What about you, Hermione? "

Hermione shrugged. "I don't really know. "

Harry gave a mock look of distress. "Hermione Granger doesn't know? "

"Really, Harry. All my options are open. I might become a dentist like my folks. "

"Dentist? "Ginny repeated. "That's the muggle one that makes teeth nice, right? "

"That too, " Hermione replied with a smile.

"But you don't want to look at horrible teeth for the rest of your life, do you? Where's the bloody action in that? " Ginny said.

"As I've said, all options are open, " Hermione told her mildly.

There was a sudden burst of laughter coming from Lavender and Ron's area. They were giggling like mad and Ginny and Harry found them selves frowning.

"Honestly, of all the tacky things to do, " Ginny muttered, afraid that Hermione might be depressed from the commotion.

But Hermione gave no reaction whatsoever. She was busy taking out a book now and reading it as she ate her salad. Harry eyed her and saw nothing strange going on with her. It seemed that she had made a barricade to prevent hurt from entering and she was doing well at pretending she never noticed a thing.

Draco saw everything without even paying much attention. Laughter from the new couple, Harry's look of concern, Ginny's look of empathy and Hermione's innate way of handling sudden pressure, suddenly all seemed like some pleasurable movie playing in front of him. He almost smiled and then he remembered Blaise's perceptions and decided to be apathetic instead. He bloody wanted to kill Ron Weasley and torture Lavender for causing Hermione emotional discomfort, the bloody-

"I'm glad, " Pansy interrupted his thoughts. "The redheaded Weasel finally coercing with someone of pureblood…your distant cousin's picking up his mistakes- "

Draco looked at Pansy's smile of nastiness and he gave out his own trademark smirk. "Is that what you think? "

"Well, that Granger's probably not good with anything other than schoolwork, " Pansy added. "I don't think she even got shagged, yet. "

Blaise laughed, hearing her comment. "True, too true, Pansy. "

"Plus she's in desperate need of…how do you call this….a make-over, " she sniggered, waiting for Draco to laugh.

He just smiled.

Pansy still felt encouraged to go on. Draco had always been amused with her side comments about the trio that annoyed him the most. Besides, she liked to see him smile, knowing she was useful. "She's also in need-"

"Quiet, " Draco suddenly said harshly.

Pansy's eyes widened a bit, even Blaise's. They were enjoying Pansy's remarks, weren't they? Draco was enjoying it…right?

"Dray- "

He suddenly stood up and walked away from them, trying to control his brows from furrowing, successfully maintaining his stoic face.

"He's not mad is he? " Pansy's voice faltered.

"Just another mood swing, " Blaise said grimly, suddenly missing the presence of Crabbe and Goyle who took most of Draco's mood swings into their system than Pansy. Of course, the lumbering imbeciles were implicated in the great battle that took place a year ago in Hogwarts. Only Draco had gotten away without so much as a good hex, thanks to 'daddy's' connections. Blaise had thought Draco was Voldemort's last line of attack into the realm once more.

"Well- where is he going? " her voice faltered.

Blaise shrugged. "Go after him, he's your boyfriend, " he said, emphasizing the last word.

Pansy gave him a hot glare and then stood up to follow Draco who was already past the Great Hall's doors. "Dray, " she called out, walking quickly for him.

She reached Draco past four columns already and held a hand on his shoulder. "Something- wrong? "

"You always think something's wrong? " Draco retorted, not looking at her. Her hand still lingered on his shoulder and he did not bother to brush it off.

She took away her hand. "I- I don't know. You love me don't you? "

"What kind of a bloody question is that? "

"It's a question! " her voice raised. "Do you have to ask me a question to answer my question? "

He turned to face her and glared at her. "I want to be alone. "

"You can't be alone! You have me, " Pansy told him, ready to cry again. She grabbed Draco's face and kissed him fully on the lips. Draco's eyes widened, not because of Pansy's kiss, but because he saw- he saw Hermione a few feet away from Pansy. He stepped back just as Hermione spun around to walk down the other way.

Pansy looked up to him, not noticing who was at her back. "See? You can't be alone. You can feel me, tell me if you're in pain Draco and I'll help you to the best I can. If this is about that- "

"No, " he finally said, suddenly feeling defeated. "It's just- I'm tired, Pansy. " And it was all he said as Pansy took his hand once more to lead him into the Great Hall.

He did not protest.

Hermione's heart pounded and she tried to reason with herself. "_It's true_, " she thought. "_We are nothing together. He deserved that kiss from Pansy- Pansy is his beau, his future consort, his sex associate,_ " she thought, disgusted. And she felt deeply restless inside, though she still held her head high from fear that she her heart would hurt. "_I won't be had for sex. I won't be had for his selfishness. I won't be stupid enough to fall for his slimy words or his actions. His kisses may be better than Ron's… what the hell- no I can't compare him to Ron…Ron's sweet, Draco…he possesses me…he's taking every inch of me into- stop it, Hermione! "_

She had seen him leave, wondered if he was upset for some reason. She had waited for a few seconds, seriously trying to read a few sentences from her book, not noticing that Pansy had slipped out too, for Draco.

The kiss was what proved it all. She knew it. Felt it deep inside. Draco was never for her. Such a foolish romantic notion from a bruised girl like her…well, she shouldn't have the need to consider herself bruised. She was as strong as any lady could get- no, she was as strong as any witch that was hurt could get. It was all a matter of knowing how to turn things around to favor her. But she felt disoriented- just a bit. That little scene made her stomach roil and her heart palpitate in aching.

_Well, fuck Draco Malfoy_, she thought derisively. "There are other better kissers than him."

It was all just a bloody Draco Malfoy kiss. And suddenly that mattered now. How could she not have seen this coming? That she would hurt? And she felt self pity seeping through her pores. And she tried to stop it, but did not have the strength.

This was a chess game. Draco Malfoy was using her as pawn in his own team. Wait- the queen always ruled and that queen would be Pansy. She was the speck of dust on Draco's shoe. He would never pay attention to her. She was a few seconds worth of derision and she would be wiped off of his shiny, expensive shoes…

She was going to forget this stupid game. Attraction was attraction and it should stay that way. Why think of possibilities for love? Love couldn't be renewed. It either went or stayed. She was a firm believer in truth and truth was in the form of Pansy sucking Draco's lips dry.

It wasn't love. It wasn't going to be love at all.

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_Author's Notes_: Whoa!!! I can't believe I completely forget to update this story! It's been how many months? I hope you guys haven't forgotten it too? I've just been so busy with everything concerning art school, so I'm really sorry. How's about some random news about my life? I just ended a relationship and it was kinda bad- which inspired me to write the chapters you will get to read in the future (sorry about the bitterness, but i couldn't help it, plus it turned out as a sort of muse for this story)

Please do continue reading and reviewing! It's just going to get better and better, I promise!


	6. You've been flirting again

**You've been flirting again**

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Hermione didn't come

Hermione didn't come. He knew it. But he just had to keep his hopes up, that she would come meet him for the early morning. But she didn't. And he felt restless, like he knew he should have done something yesterday, some explanation of some sort as to why he didn't bother to come after her after she had seen Pansy and him together in such an awkward moment. Suddenly having Pansy kiss him was awkward. Suddenly, Pansy stroking his hair seemed awkward. Suddenly, lying on a common room couch with his head on Pansy's lap seemed awkward.

He blew into his hands and rubbed them together, the warmth never getting into his blood. He waited for a few more minutes and then he proceeded to trudge back to Hogwarts. He could have frozen to death and still Hermione would not come. _The little arse_. Of all the lowly things to do…he waited! Waited for her! And she never came. She was in for it, he swore to himself- and yet he was unsure of how he would react if he saw her later on.

He did see her. And all he could maintain was the remorseless face of a callous bastard. And boy, was he bloody excellent at it.

He made Hermione's heart beat in all out hatred. But she proceeded into defense mode and they both passed the corridor not eyeing each other, not spitting or spiting…no words of derision at all.

He had smelled her skin despite her not being close to him. It made his blood run faster, making him dizzy. Damn it, he told himself, Hermione smelled like nothing he had ever smelled before. Was it perfume? He couldn't tell. He just loved it. But he continued walking away, afraid he would turn around to talk and even- he shuddered- apologize!

As Hermione walked towards a corner, he stopped in his tracks to look at her back. She was walking slowly, almost gracefully, except for the large book on one side of her hip. It wasn't easy, this little game they were playing. And daddy would be greatly pissed.

But he couldn't help but linger in that spot, even if Hermione had long gone, even if he had been unable to hear the sounds of her shoes softly clattering on the hall. Perhaps…he could meet with her later, steal some time from her…or, steal her away. He smiled at that thought. He had never kidnapped anyone before just to have conversations (who did?) and he imagined her kicking and beating his chest with both her fists as he-

He shook his head and continued to walk. There was something else far more important to do. Something more important than chasing his current little dirty obsession…

Draco ended up frustrated that day; he didn't even touch Pansy at all.

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Her heart pounded as she leaned against the wall, hoping she was alone and that she could be alone till her knees sufficed for walking again. She had smelled his skin, a faint cologne- or aftershave. It did not matter, as long as she was close to him.

She heard his footsteps fade away in the other side of the wall and she wondered if he even thought of her at all or felt her presence. She was there! She existed! And yet…it seemed she never was and never did. It was hurting her more than she knew. And she didn't want to know the extent of the hurt she was feeling.

"We're not meant, " she muttered under her breath, trying to make some sense into her words, trying to turn it into a song. "We're not meant to be together. "

Of course, it was difficult. She was smart but it was difficult.

And she saw someone familiar, very familiar to her heart and to her lips- coming up to her, alone and serious.

Ronald Billius Weasley. Blood traitor, ex-boyfriend…and a slew of other names people taunted him with.

He paused, standing in front of her, trying to say something. But he said nothing. And Hermione continued to walk past him and just as she had walked past him, he opened his mouth. "I'm sorry, Hermione. "

She stopped in her tracks. "You are? " she said and was amazed at how calm she sounded. She had imagined herself breaking down in that millisecond. She could have been hysterical, but she was not. She could have beaten his chest with hexes only she could conjure, but she didn't.

"I really am, " he finally said with a voice so low, only he could have heard it.

But she heard it and hated it. She was bending towards forgiveness, something she swore she would never do to him. But her heart was telling her to go soft and let the bad past go. Perhaps he and Lavender were meant together and not him and her.

"Why? " she finally said turning around to meet him.

Ron cleared his throat as softly as he could. "It wasn't- I never meant to hurt you, Hermione. It just happened. I just love her. "

It was as simple as that and it hurt more than ever.

"I still felt attached to you…but I loved her then…if you could just understand, Hermione- "

"I understand perfectly, " she said in a perfectly gracious voice and she was horrified by it.

"You- you do? "

She nodded. "It's all in the name of what-do-you-call-it…love? " she finally said, achieving a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

He sighed. "Merlin's balls, do you have to start with that again? "

"Start what? " she said, with eyes widening into innocence. '

"That. Being, being…you! " he finally said, exasperated. "I had to put up with Hermione everyday of my life since I got to know her. "

"You never got used to it? Never loved me? "

"I did, along the way- but…things change. "

"For the worst, " she muttered.

He had not heard it, for he was busy brushing his hair up with one hand, unable to look at her for a fear he might crawl on his knees to ask fro forgiveness and then let Lavender witness the whole humiliating process.

"You want to know what she has that makes her unique? " he asked her.

She shook her head after a few seconds; unable to believe she had not compared herself with the great Gryffindor seductress who had recently announced to the world her triumph on coveting Ronald Weasley as a prized possession.

"Keep it- to yourself. " She said nothing more after that, determined now to slap him and make him pay dearly, cruelly. Such was the sudden hatred she felt in her heart.

His mouth narrowed, pinched actually. It wasn't nice, this whole ordeal, but he just had to come clean, explain to her that this was how it had to be, how he couldn't help but compare how Lavender was just different for him. Then he nodded once, knowing that this would get nowhere and that his apology would just be considered another very stupid mistake.

She went off ahead, knowing her pride and her pattern of stable thinking had been disrupted once more by an arrogant, selfish, cold and head-over-heels-in-love Ronald Weasley.

"_That's just the way it is_, " she told herself. "_People get hurt even if they don't deserve it. I don't deserve it. I'm never going to get hurt this way again_. "

It was a simple enough promise to one's self without the slightest bit of hesitancy, there was a rage that refused to quell, a hatred that refused to die. This was malady; this was imprisonment. As long as she felt anger, the wounds would never heal. As long as Ron and Lavender breathed the same Hogwarts air as she did, she would never heal. And perhaps, it was at that moment that Hermione resigned herself to a fate much worse than death.

--

--

She wasn't at the table for dinner, Draco noticed. He smiled smugly to himself, trying to increase his ego for something she truly deserved. She was probably still frustrated as to why she never approached him, as to why she never apologized for not coming to see him like they had agreed near the freezing cold lake. He had waited for her and nobody keeps Draco Malfoy waiting.

He continued eating, suddenly in a good mood, not minding at all that Pansy kept holding his hand as he rested it on the table, or his cronies' terrible taste in jokes. The night was turning out better than he expected.

His expert eye slid over to the Gryffindor table and he saw Ron laughing with his fellow Gryffindor friends as well as Lavender among her female counterparts. Harry's eyes kept darting from Hermione's empty place to the Great Hall's doors, as if waiting for her to arrive- all the while maintaining that look of interest for the conversation at hand. At least Potter seemed like a true friend no matter how much a loser he was….

"Draco, " a deep voice suddenly said.

Draco looked up, as if disturbed by Blaise. "What? " he said trying to look as cross as possible.

"I said that I've been told that you haven't been attending meetings concerning Slytherin's views- prefects meeting. "

"Like the whole lot of you care, " he sniffed, drinking from his goblet.

Theodore Nott eyed him. "I do. "

Draco looked at him intently, as if scrutinizing an earthworm's dying moments. "Pray do tell, " he said, raising a practiced wave into the air.

"We've been excluded from practice pit benefits, " Nott began.

"Like you bloody like Quidditch. "

"I support your team well enough, " Nott said mildly. "Also, there's discrimination in the hallways, if you've been paying attention. We've been called Snape's boogers for a few days now. "

"Let them say whatever they want. Just because we're in Slytherin and they're from other houses doesn't mean they can trample you down, " he said icily. "You're in Slytherin for Merlin's sake, act like one. "

"I'm just concerned for the overall impact this might have in our final days in Hogwarts, if you know what I mean. "

Draco stopped short. It got him into thinking. Despite some of the Slytherins being known only as supporters and not really fanatical loyalists…Nott had thought of his future for him while he was absorbed in his present fantasies. He felt anger simmer in him. He felt incompetent, felt like a fool. Too many distractions led to this. Hermione's presence led him to this. He was veering away from his duties.

"I know my place, " he said, almost hissing. "You should know yours. "

Nott backed away. "Of course you do, " he said in an almost sarcastic voice. "Just reminding you. " He left without another word, confident he had hit home.

Blaise looked at Nott's back, disgusted. He looked at Draco's passive face. "Never liked him. Wonder why he even got into Slytherin…"

Pansy threw her seductive head back for a laugh. "Probably didn't get a shag. "

The others laughed, but Draco didn't. Instead his face remained stony. And she felt she had hit a wrong cord with him. She bit her lower lip as the laughter quickly died.

Draco wanted to say: _"is a good shag all you ever think of?"_ But he decided not to say anything, trying to control his juvenile temper this time. He was tired of seeing Pansy apologize in front of him. The mere thought of it irritated him.

Pansy's eyes turned into kitten ones, mirroring a feline begging for pity. He felt like he wanted to strangle her and throw her into a raging river inside a sack full of stones. He almost smiled. "Maybe he didn't, " he finally said slowly, thinking that this was his only way out for now

Pansy finally breathed in and so did the rest of the group. And they had thought Draco was vexed. They just didn't know he was filled with murderous rage.

--

--

"You're here, " he said in a quiet, nearly dangerous voice. The air was still cold, clinging to his skin like a thousand needles as he stared at her early morning beauty for a few seconds. He looked down again, feeling annoyance rise in him, the fact that he had waited for her for a couple of days without fail. He had still wished deep inside that she would come earlier that morning.

"I'm not here for you, " she said.

It was another day and they were at the lakeside once more.

"You're just in bloody denial. "

"You're an early morning hot head. "

"I most certainly am not! " Draco spat out.

Hermione laughed.

Draco's ears turned pink. Why was it that every time they were together, he would feel this restless antipathy? It wasn't like she did everything to annoy him; she just simply did annoy him. She was the itch that never went away. And yet, when he was away from her, he dreamt mostly about her, thought about her- thoughts he dared not mention to anyone.

"This place seems familiar, doesn't it?" she suddenly said, standing just a few inches away from him, staring at the vast expanse of the dark body of cold water, bathed in a misty haze.

His brows knitted. "Why?"

"It's as if we've stayed here for a long time, just staring at it together. "

He said nothing, a million thoughts now running in his head. Something more alive than silence was swallowing their supposed conversations.

"Do you like it? " he asked her, not looking at her. He was unsure of where his question was leading.

"Yes, " she said simply. "It's comforting. "

He almost smiled, feeling warmth creep into his heart. She found him comforting? It was a bloody sign, wasn't it? And he was afraid to spoil what she had just said, so he remained quiet.

They made quite a picture, the two of them. One clad in a slick looking black wool trench coat and the other in a dark red sweater with tousled wavy hair. Looking far away, one might agree that they looked like a lovely pair. Contrasts that merged beautifully together, of silver and gold, sharp and soft, conniving and smart…

"Do you know why it's comforting? " she continued without him prodding her to share. "It's cause it feels alright. I feel accepted. When you feel accepted, you can be yourself. " _I wonder if he's thinking of how I'm thinking…_

"Is this about the lake? " he interjected.

She grinned. "No, not really. "

"When I kissed you that other, other day, I meant it. "

"I didn't say anything about kissing. "

"I was being myself. " _How's that for some plus points?_

"That's the point you're driving for? " she said. "You being your immoral self? " she smiled a bit seeing his initial reaction.

"I am not immoral, " he said in his most convincing voice.

"The stories of your sexual prowess beg to differ. "

"Ah, you've heard of them? " he said in an almost proud voice.

She raised an eyebrow. "And that doesn't just include your current sex cohort? "

"Those are just stories, " he sniggered. "Tell me what you think of it? "

"I think you're at the risk of getting chlamidya, gonorrhea and a host of other STDS. I think you're gross, self-centered, thick, scheming- "

"Thank you, that was about enough. By the way, what is calamidia and gonerea or STD crap for that matter? "

Hermione laughed right out loud. She was turning red in the face, wishing to roll on the snow. Draco looked at her, annoyed, waiting for the explanation to those bizarre mudblood words.

She breathed in, rasping for air while laughing. "It's- it's- " And she laughed again, her eyes nearly pooling with tears. She forced herself to calm down, sputtering once in awhile. "Those were muggle terms for diseases brought about by reckless sex. "

"Diseases? Like dragon pox? "

"Worse. Much worse. Think of dragon pox multiplied a thousand times over added with a bit of a furnunculus hex and Professor Sprout's warts. "

Draco made a face. "That's just plain disgusting. "

"Yeah, so don't have reckless sex. Stick to one partner. "

"Meaning you? "

"You plan to do it with me? "

" I don't plan. It'll just happen. "

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Like I told you before-"

"Oh shut it, " he said rudely. "You women are all bloody the same. You nag and talk and nag and find ways to please us and then nag again. "

"I'm not to be classified as a nagging woman. I just happen to be smarter than you are that's why you're pissed. If I were an ordinary nagger, you wouldn't even bother arguing with me. You men are all bloody the same, " she ended with sarcasm.

Draco's anger rose now. "Don't place me in the same dunce seat as that flaming ex of yours. I don't recommend you degrade me. "

"You don't need to be degraded. You're lower than the serpents that crawl on the earth. "

"Snakes are noble creatures, " he said, as if offended for snakes. "If you want someone lower than a snake, there's that ugly living thing called Ronald Weasley. "

Hermione laughed out again, forgetting her sudden ire. Draco looked at her, bewildered and cross still. She kept laughing until he joined in, mouth twitching first and then full-blown laughter.

She wiped a tear that escaped the corner of her eye as she struggled for breath. Draco was redder than he had ever been in his whole life, probably redder than when he first came out into the world, filling his lungs with precious oxygen.

"You actually found that funny? " he asked, trying to draw his breath in.

"I found it pretty hilarious, " she responded, suppressing another laugh.

"Did you now? "

"Don't push it, " she said grinning, finally feeling the ache in her jaws from all that laughter. She rested herself on a conveniently located boulder and brushed the snow off of it first.

"My face aches, " he complained as she stood beside her seated figure. He prodded fingers all over his face and frowned.

"You've never laughed like that before? "

"I've never been deprived of oxygen like that before, " he told her. "Even the sides of my stomach hurt you know. "

She smiled a little. "How would you like to see the sunrise with me tomorrow? "

"Are you inviting me out on a date? " Draco's face suddenly looked devious.

"No, I'm inviting you to watch a sunrise with me, " she corrected. "Dates are for eating. "

"Are we talking about the same date like you're going to spend some quality time with good loving or are you talking about a fruit? "

"A fruit. "

He grinned. "Sure. So…what time should we meet? "

"How's five-thirty in the morning? "

"Isn't that a bit late? "

"Don't you ever pay attention to astrology? " Hermione said with a huff.

"Fine, five-thirty it is, " he said extending his hand out for a handshake. Hermione eyed it warily. He shook it a bit. "Oh come on, it's not like my hand has fangs. "

She took it and he held it for a few seconds longer than an expected handshake.

"You can let go of my hand, you know. "

"Sorry, " he grinned a sly grin. "I just love shaking hands with people. "

"No you don't. "

"How would you know? " he said laughing. "I think it's about time you should get going. You'll be late for class. "

"Won't you walk together with me? You'll be late too. "

"If I walked with you, it'll attract attention, " he said simply. "Needle up her ass Gryffindor Head Girl should never be seen with spoiled and self-important Slytherin Prefect. "

Hermione laughed. "Alright, seeing you're better with this kind of matter. "

He watched her slowly walk away, not looking back at him, her back looking self assured and calm. The day was starting out right. He never thought that this morning rendezvous would result to him feeling light-hearted and composed.

After a few minutes of staring at the tranquil lake, he started walking back for Hogwarts. So what if he would be thirty minutes late? Potions was a boring subject done with a new and boring professor from Eastern Europe. He wouldn't be missing out on anything. He wrapped his gray colored scarf around his neck tighter as he smiled and he didn't even realize he was smiling.

--

--

* * *

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_Author's notes: _Another overdue update. I'm going kind of slow. Do review? Thank you.

_p.s_ I'm thinking of redoing "The Chemicals Between Us". Should I? I have erratums all over. And since i can't edit it by chapter anymore, it's automatic that i delete it, right? Fill me in? Thanks again!


	7. Unravel

**Unravel**

--

--

* * *

--

--

Weeks passed by in a flurry of activity and examinations

Weeks passed by in a flurry of activity and examinations. Despite that, Draco and Hermione kept meeting almost every early morning at the spot they called comfort. Waking up early every morning had become a routine for them, a meeting they considered 'secret', and a growing attraction on both sides that they couldn't deny.

Of course, no one had noticed it really, not even Pansy. Draco had done his best to keep the clandestine meetings clandestine while Hermione's roommates slept through most of her early morning escapades.

This day had begun like the rest of the days prior. Only this time, Draco had circles under his eyes and Hermione was observant enough to notice them.

"Didn't get enough shut-eye? " she asked, conjuring two mugs of hot chocolate in the air.

Draco gratefully took a sip. "Thanks, " he yawned. "I was- kept awake by their snores. "

She shrugged her shoulders, knowing full well how she saw his cohorts, those living and free abominations- she stopped her thoughts, afraid to spitefully comment about them and cause an early morning commotion between the two of them.

"What? " he looked at her. "You can say what you want. I've gotten a bit used to it. "

"Only when you've gotten really used to it, " she pressed on the 'really' with a smile.

He grinned. "They snore awfully loud. "

"Christmas is coming up. Will you be going home? " she asked, blowing into her mug. The steam rose up and she welcomed the warmth.

Draco eyed her. "I'm still thinking about it. Are you? "

"Might, " she said.

"Not going to spend the vacation with your friends? " he asked, fighting the urge to say something mean about Weasel and Potty- especially Weasel though…

She rolled her eyes. "As if you didn't know any better. Wait, you just want to heat things up, don't you? "

He laughed. "Guilty. But really, aren't you going to patch things up? "

"As far as I'm concerned, I want to have nothing to do with him, I mean- them. "

"Still hoping for a patch-up? " he felt jealousy rise. He always had this feeling that Hermione still hadn't gotten over that stupid redhead.

"It's just that- Christmas was a time for the three of us to bond even more, " she finally said. "And now, that's gone. I feel there's no need for a vacation with them, I need a vacation from them. Did your mum owl you so you'd spend Christmas home? " she swiftly changed the subject.

He nodded. "I'd rather, spend it away from home. Christmas is bloody the same everywhere. How's that for some Christmas cheer? "

"I used to believe in Santa Clause, " she interrupted.

"Of course he's bloody real, " Draco said irritably. "He's just too old by now. I used to laugh at those muggle Santas. All jolly good and fat and doing those horrible 'ho-ho-hos'. The Santa I've seen was thin and in desperate need of relaxation. You muggle kids abused the Santa I know too much. "

Hermione's eyes widened. "For real? "

"Yes, for real. I never got what I wanted, you know. I always got coal in my red sock, " he grinned naughtily. "I was never a good boy per say. But mum and dad made up for it by giving me their presents. "

"I never knew- I mean I'm a muggle and a witch but I never gave it much thought- "

"Finally, something you don't know, " he laughed.

She grinned a bit. "I've never delved much into these kinds of things. I mean I read books and know stuff but- "

"Loch Ness, watcha' think about it? " he asked her.

"It's- a prehistoric creature in a Scottish loch. But it's never been seen even though scientific advances have been made to- "

"It's cause you've never seen it. I have, " he said impatiently. "There's more than one. There's a subterranean cave beneath the loch. Even though you muggles know the loch's deepness, we wizards who're a bit of experts on it know that there's another entrance down its depths. That's why you never see them. The Nessies are a bit of playful but shy. Sometimes they muster up the courage to go above their cave and into the muggle loch. That explains the sparse sightings. "

"Are you making this up? "

"What the hell do you think I am? A liar? " he grinned. "Okay, I'm a liar but trust me, this one's real. "

Hermione's eyes widened further.

"You're interested, aren't you? " he asked her.

"More than you know. "

"That's for being a know-it-all. "

"I resent that. I just know a lot. "

He laughed. "Right, you're a know-a-lot. "

"A know-a-what? "

"I'm making good use of the English language. "

"You need more bloody practice. "

"It's just that growing up learning a lot of languages gets me all slow at times. Sometimes I feel like I'm translating everything into the languages that I know. "

"Languages? You can speak something other than English? "

"Quite fluently, yes. French, Italian and Gaelic. "

She smiled. "Finally, something that doesn't squeal thick about you. "

"I hate that word. I'm not thick…just lazy and a bit distracted, " he said. "Father always told me I should have outdone myself in school. I hate being compared to you, you know. "

"Don't allow that to happen. Do something then. "

"I could chain you up with a thousand pound metal ball and throw you into the lake, " he said laughing. "Or I could make you drink a draught of stupidity which I'm sure exists. "

"Which the professors will be suspicious of, " she reminded him.

"Right. I forgot that part wherein a stupid day from Hermione makes all professors go suspicious. All hell will break lose to find that evil doer."

She was quiet now. He looked at her and felt annoyed at what maimed her into silence.

"Do you- do you think they'll find out? "

"What? This? "

"Yes, this, " she pressed on. "A Gryffindor and Slytherin together make bad news really bad. "

"I haven't given that thought at all. Are you afraid of the consequences this light fun will have with your future? "

"I'm light fun? " she said, eyes widening a bit, doing the perfect imitation of a seven year old in surprise.

"Light fun and wonderful to my dreams, " he said in all seriousness.

She thought she should laugh, but she didn't. Instead, she smiled. "Don't charm your way out of this serious question. "

"You really want to know what I think about this? I think I've never had this much fun in my entire life since I taught my fellow Slytherins to sing 'Weasley is our King'. I've never had this much laughter since I saw my father slip on a sheet of ice back at the manor and I was five years old. I've never shared things to anyone this much before. You still want to know what I think? "

"Yes. "

"I think you're the reason why I don't have horrid nightmares every night anymore. I now enjoy attending classes when you're around. I eat better for Merlin's sake. I'm not as horny as I used to be- "

She laughed right out loud. "Now that is nasty. But it doesn't answer my question. "

He turned serious, really serious now and Hermione could tell, as his eyes turned into a darker shade of gray. "Yes, they will find out. I'm sure the reception will be frosty in my part and yours will be fiery rage. But for as long as possible, let's keep this to ourselves. It will hurt my pride and yours eventually. "

"Do you want a happy ending? "

"This situation isn't a bloody fairytale. "

"But do you want one? "

"Yes, I want a bloody happy ending. Merlin, I've wanted to taste happiness without the tang of bitterness for so long. Why? Are you going to give me one? "

"I don't know. "

"It's either yes or no. "

"I don't know. Being with you is great, really it is. But I can't assure you one with the present situation. "

"There's a lot of these situations. How's about loving me? " he asked in a commanding voice.

"You can't tell me to love you. "

"Don't you? "

"It isn't strong enough to be called love yet- "

"That's fine. I like you too. "

"Stop this. This is getting uncomfort- "

"Yes, it is uncomfortable, " he said casually. Then he took her hand in his and it was surprisingly warm to hold. "How's about a good scream, huh? Let all that anger out before we trudge for classes again? "

"They'll hear. "

"The winds will help, " he assured her, leading her to a little clearing, a few meters above the sinister looking lake. "And I won't push you. You're wonderful to me; remember? "

She smiled and took a step beside him now.

"Ready? One, two, three… scream! "

And scream they did, from the bottom of their lungs, their guts, their souls and the pain both had experienced, combined. The shouts were drowned by the wind and they fought against the bellowing of the wind, still screaming nonstop.

With their hands entwined and with shouts louder than their hearts, this was freedom.

--

--

Harry woke up all of a sudden, thinking that someone was screaming for help from far away. He grabbed for his eyeglasses on the side table and looked at the clock. Six-fifteen in the morning. He pushed the curtains of his bed aside, sat and looked at Ron and Dean Thomas, snoring gently in their sleep. His feet recoiled from the cold floor and he almost cursed.

He had a bad dream. But that was all that it was, right? He had them sometimes. They were of his parents, Sirius and Dumbledore…nightmares had a reason to be called that, Harry thought over and over again, knowing that they were dreams that were horrid enough to be akin to reality. He hated death and didn't want anyone else close to him die. It was a mantra he kept repeating to himself ever since he lost both Dumbledore and his godfather. Sometimes, he thought of dealing with Voldemort alone, with all the people he cared for far away from his malicious grasp, along with his cohorts' menacing dependability. The question was how to do that, without alerting his friends' senses.

His stomach grumbled. And he sighed and made his way to the baths and took a long warm shower and stood there, thinking of possibilities and regrets stored in his heart, that only he really knew of, even though Hermione and Ron told him to share what he felt or thought (Hermione was not only making him feel better, she was analyzing his dreams and emotions too).

He made his way down to the common room to see a beautiful morning sight. He smiled. "Hello, Gin. "

She smiled back. "Why are you awake this early? Bad night? " she asked, her freckles looking adorable in the early morning sunlight coming from the windows.

"Hungry, " he said simply. "Care to join me? "

"Sure, " she said. "I hope they've made waffles with lots of butter and warm honey. How's Harry Potter? "

"Your ex? " he asked, smiling.

She grinned and jabbed his stomach playfully. " Yes, that horrid, horrid boy who made me fall for him. "

"He misses a redhead and wants her safe. "

"Are you talking about my mum? "

"Ginny! "

--

--

"It's been a fairly good semester, hasn't it been? " Neville asked Hermione as she sat down beside him for dinner. "I'm excited for Christmas. "

The Great Hall shone bright with twinkling stars above the students' heads and a warm fire kept the chilly air at bay as it merrily blazed in a grand fireplace. It was the night before everyone was to leave for the Holiday break.

"With your grandmother? " Hermione asked.

He smiled shyly. "She's not that bad, especially on the holidays. She gives great presents. "

Ron and Lavender were missing from the Great Hall, Hermione mused. But her thoughts of them quickly dissipated when Draco came in, sitting across the Gryffindor table, amongst Slytherin ranks. He eyed her for a millisecond and she found it almost difficult to suppress a smile. She forced herself to turn away and continue the conversation that Neville had started.

All Draco had to do was look at her and it sent the smile in his head skyrocketing towards the galaxies that Professor Sinistra so loved to talk about. Then he forced himself to head back to earth all in a millisecond.

"You'll be heading home, Hermione? " Neville asked her.

"I'm not so sure…" she said, her eyes trailing towards the Slytherin table across her. She cleared her throat and forced a smile to Neville's way.

"Blimey, shouldn't you be going back to the Burrow like you and Harry always do when- " he stopped and quickly turned red, stammering apologies the next.

"It's okay Neville, " Hermione said good-naturedly. "Really, it is. "

Neville continued murmuring 'I'm sorry' and Hermione smiled and patted his back.

"Don't worry, I've gotten over that, " she said and she quickly realized her mistake. "It takes time, " she added. "But I will completely get over it. "

Neville's eyes widened, thankful Hermione wasn't sore over what he had said. Harry gave Hermione a grim smile as he spoke with Ginny continually, overhearing what had happened, but Ginny luckily didn't hear, as she was busy animatedly discussing a Quidditch tactic.

After a bit of dinner, Hermione excused herself to the lavatories. She walked down a dimly lit corridor when something grabbed her from the darkness. She started to scream but a voice quickly calmed her down.

"It's me, " he said.

"Draco? " she whispered.

"The one and only, " he said in a low voice.

"What are you doing? " she asked him, still whispering.

"I just wanted to get this. " He quickly shoved her behind a large stonewall and kissed her nonstop. When he had pulled away, both were breathless. He was grinning and so was she.

"Was that supposed to be dessert? " she said nearly laughing.

He smiled. "Sorry, couldn't help it. How's that for spontaneity? "

"We could get caught- "

"Or not. I'd better head back to the Great Hall; I'm staying for the Holidays. I know you are too. "

She felt a sudden thrill rush through her, knowing it would be a good chance to get to know him better than she could ever dream of. He squeezed her hand once and he walked away not looking back. She fought the urge to laugh out loud at the irony of it all. Here she was, giddy over a Slytherin bad boy when she knew that Harry and Ron felt differently- oh, sod Ron! This was her affair! But still, she couldn't quell the fear that something might go _horribly _wrong with this very wrong romance.

--

--

"What're you planning for Christmas break? " Harry asked her as she entered the Gryffindor Common Room. She looked up from the entrance and shrugged. Harry, Ginny, Neville and some lower years were lounging about. Ron and Lavender were nowhere to be seen.

"She won't come, " Ginny said flatly.

Hermione sighed. "Times have changed, Gin. "

"I'm going to kill my broth-"

"It's alright, 'Mione, " Harry said. "Just be sure to keep yourself on guard at all times. Owl me everyday all right? "

Hermione knew Harry was leaving for the Holidays, leaving for the Burrow. And she felt a sudden pang of detachment, knowing she would miss him terribly as she would miss Ginny. Missing Ron though, was something she would not do for a very long time.

She nodded. "I will. "

"Do your parents know that you're staying here? " Harry asked her, his eyes narrowing a bit. "I don't like the idea of you staying here without us- "

"They know. I owled them yesterday and they're fine with it. I won't be alone Harry, it's not like everyone's going home. "

He shrugged. "I just don't like it. Christmas is supposed to be spent with the people you care for, not alone. "

She smiled at him. "You care too much. How's about giving me a Christmas present instead? "

The night passed by quickly and before Hermione knew it, everyone was saying their farewells and she was hugging Harry tightly as she did to Ginny and Neville in the entrance hall. The carriages were waiting outside and the moving throng was getting stifling.

She waved back at them and as their carriage sped off too far for her eyes to see, the sound of shoes behind her made her break away from the feeling of loneliness.

"I hope you're not crying just because they're off for Christmas. "

"I'm not, " she quickly said, resisting the urge to sniffle. He was standing before her, fresh faced and smiling. "Who's left in your house? "

"Hmm…that revolting Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini and some puny lower years. Now how about that? This might be the perfect Christmas yet. "

"You know, you shouldn't be reckless even though more than half of the school population is gone. You still have your name to keep up to- "

"Oh shush it. With the lot of them gone, it'll be like ripping through Christmas wrappers, " he laughed. "See you later? You might want to start writing a letter to your friends on how fun your Holidays are going to be. "

She sniggered and shook her head, determined not to lose herself over him.

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**A/N: **aha. another delayed update. i'm kind of slow now, as i have tons of projects to do. but i still will continue this story, the real world distracts me a lot (horrible ex-boyfriend, anyone?) anyway, do tell me what you think?

till next chapter!


	8. Sun in my mouth

**Sun in my mouth**

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* * *

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Perhaps, it was how fate intended it to happen- but there was also her will power. She decided to give it a shot after all, all this Draco Malfoy vice- err- business. She was never the type to even notice boys for their qualities, but now that she was grown-up (almost) and had gone over her first bittersweet relationship, she supposed it was high time she understood more than just her oversimplification of men.

It was the night before Christmas and the remaining Hogwarts students and the Hogwarts staff, including Mister Filch (who had dressed up Mrs. Norris in a little sweater; the color of dirty looking pink and green, making her look like a furry house elf) were having a get together in the Great Hall. A total of twenty students were present, some dressed in muggle clothes. Draco and the rest of the Slytherins kept a good distance from the other houses as they all shared one long table with Professor McGonagall at the head of it.

With a few opening words, Professor McGonagall invited them to feast. Hermione ate like she hadn't eaten the whole day, chewing surely throughout the fourteen course meal. The pumpkin soup came first, followed by some salad, then honey-dipped chicken, lasagna- and Hermione lost count of how many spoonfuls she had taken.

She glanced every few minutes towards Draco's direction. He was busy laughing and sneering in that Draco way of his. She almost smiled but quickly shifted her concentration into talking with a younger Gryffindor, who was asking her if there were any other activities aside from the lip-smacking dinner. Hermione assured her there might be a little fireworks spectacle tonight outside the castle, not just for the students but for the people in Hogsmeade too.

An hour later, with the remaining staff and students atop one of Hogwarts' many turrets, the fireworks spectacle began. With almost synchronized oohs and aahs and laughter from the younger students, Hermione felt Christmas spirit was right at home at the top of the castle. As the booming from the fireworks went on, she saw Draco seated beside the statue of a hunched gargoyle, one of the few gargoyle statues found only on the turret they were in. She smiled at him and he ignored her. She shrugged and went back on admiring the fireworks.

Draco smiled as she turned her head. This bloody Christmas spirit was infectious, especially seeing her smile like that. Now why wouldn't this Christmas be a better one than all the ones that he had? Nothing was better than this. He could almost imagine himself rubbing his hands together with glee.

Hermione put her hands in her pockets as the fireworks spectacle died down and the students along with the Hogwarts staff began exiting the area. There was something in her coat pocket. She pulled it out. A tiny piece of parchment with something written on it…She read it.

_Meet me again after an hour right here. _

_P.S It's now your cue to smile. _

Hermione did, suppressing an even bigger smile coming onto her lips. She was acting like an idiot. And she liked it. She left the area, wondering what she could do for an hour as she waited for that hour.

She decided to walk around Hogwarts for an hour wrapped in three layers of coats and an extra warmth charm. The rose bushes were frozen right now and so were the many other flowers Professor Sprout loved to take care of. The green house which had the dangerous and stranger plants was closed and the windows were covered in frost. She peered in to see the plants still looking as healthy as if it were spring. One of the plants moved to her direction, sensing a vibration. She stepped back and continued walking, snowflakes falling like soft rain.

She looked up Hogwarts and saw how much it looked like a fairy tale castle. At this time of year, it seemed to be made for a fairytale and not for students. One hour…she had a lot to think about. She suddenly felt apprehensive and uneasy all of a sudden. Why? It wasn't like she didn't want to be with him…in fact she wanted to be with him for a few hours- everyday. She smiled to herself, wondering why she allowed herself to feel something like this again and she couldn't push it away easily.

She came back inside another large stone archway and stepped back into the warmer temperature of the castle. There was not a single person in the hallways, except for a few spirits who sang Christmas Carols together, their voices soaring throughout in baritones and arias. She nodded passing by them, greeting them a 'Merry Christmas' and the carolers nodded back and continued singing, louder this time, probably inspired by her simple greeting.

She passed by the Great Hall which was still open, the banquet table filled with food fit for a whole village. Three younger students were inside, still drinking butterbeer and munching on freshly baked muffins. They were laughing, two boys and a girl, sharing a joke. She smiled a bit, feeling a pang of melancholy run through her. That was them before, the aptly named Golden Trio- she could only keep it in memories now. She walked further ahead, determined not to recall painful events. It was the season to be jolly, after all.

She decided to return to the dormitory. Upon entering, there was a large fire in the Common Rom and she was alone- except for an owl in the middle of an oak table. She scooted down and saw a little package beside it; the owl had a note on one of its legs.

"What do we have here? " she asked.

The tawny owl hooted a bit, demanding for a treat. She smiled and grabbed something from her pocket, a tiny meat pie wrapped in a napkin, reserved just for owls. The owl hooted, as if in thanks as Hermione proceeded to read the note. It was Harry's handwriting, she recognized it instantly. It read:

_Hermione, _

_Happy Holidays. Don't go bitter on me, because I know that you know I'm at The Burrow right now. It took me a small amount of discretion to send this to you (you know how some people might over react to this). _

_Anyway, do take care. Don't do anything stupid- seriously. You'd better wear my gift. _

_Love,_

_Harry_

Hermione smiled. A letter from Harry…not all was lost in the world of friendship, then. She grabbed the little box and tore apart the wrapper.

"Oh, Harry, " she murmured, taking out the exquisite looking hair clip. She held it up against the light of the fire and the room was suddenly filled with a burst of color, different shades of the rainbow, all coming from an average sized semi-precious stone.

"Wait here, " she said to the little owl, who was nibbling the remaining pieces of the meat pie. She ran up to her dorm and picked up a package bigger than Harry's but not heavy for the owl to carry around with. She beckoned the owl to come over and quickly wrote a letter to Harry. Tying it carefully, she whispered to the owl a few instructions.

The owl hooted, understanding the purpose of carefulness and hooted again, eyeing Hermione's pocket. Hermione grinned and gave another meat pie into its mouth.

"Thank you and Merry Christmas. Stay clear of a blizzard, now. "

The owl soared out of an open window, package in its claws, still nibbling the meat pie while flying into the cold night.

The grandfather clock rung loudly, three times. Hermione gasped. She was late. Three seconds late already! She ran out of the Common Room, running all the way to the designated turret. She reached there, breathless.

"Bloody hell, do you want me to keep performing warming charms? " the churlish voice greeted her.

She smiled weakly. "Sorry, I forgot the time I was sitting in the common room. "

"A letter kept you busy? " he smirked. "Please don't tell me it's from he-who-must-not-be-Ron?"

She laughed, despite still trying to catch her breath. "God no, it's from the other person you loathe. "

His eyes narrowed. "I just highly dislike him. Loathing is reserved for annoying people and a person who dumped you out of idiocy. "

Hermione's eyes shone a bit and her cheeks reddened more. "You care that much, then? "

"I'm marking my territory. "

"Like a dog? "

"Like a Malfoy, " he corrected.

"I don't want to be a Malfoy object. "

"You'll be one. "

"I'm not Pansy- "

"Thank god! " he interrupted. Then he smiled. "Seriously, Thank god you aren't. Another Pansy in my life is like staying in St. Mungo's for life. "

"So you do care- "

"About myself? Of course. "

"Narcissist, " Hermione said with a smile.

He pretended to look hurt. "I'll forgive you, because this Christmas thing is contagious and all and you look engaging in your dark coat. "

"And that's what you call nice looking? "

"Shut it. You do. Or do you want me to take it back? " he growled. "Besides, I've never ever seen you wear anything dark. It suits your face once in a while. "

Hermione kept herself from smiling. "Thank you, " she said in a stoic face.

"You're a terrible actress. "

She laughed out loud. "Fine, you got me. "

He suddenly thrust a package in front of her. "Here... "

It was an intricately wrapped package with a silver bow to finish. Hermione was afraid of the thought of taking it apart just to see what was inside. It was light to the hands and she wondered what was inside…

"Not a book, mind you. "

"I didn't think it was. "

"You were hoping. "

"It's getting cold here- " Draco interjected. "I have to get back to the Common Room; I'm expecting a package from my mother. "

"Nice way to interrupt my reveries. "

"Sorry, " he said in a rather charming manner. "I do hope you like it. " And without warning he pulled her close to him and kissed her softly on the lips. He let go quickly.

She stood there, almost shocked, trying hard to regain poise. And then she put a present in his hand and tiptoed to kiss his cheek. "Thank you. "

She walked away calmly, leaving Draco staring at the expanse of Hogwarts' grounds, wondering why the feeling of being kissed gently could leave such an overwhelming effect on him. Her kiss put warmth in him. The sun was in her mouth. He shook his head, surprised at the metaphor. Damn kiss.

--

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She was in the Common Room faster than she thought she'd get there. She was alone, perhaps the younger Gryffindors were already asleep, stomachs full, dreams scattered across the expanse of snow.

She dashed for her room, three other beds empty and cold, hers; warm and comforting. She had the gift from Draco on her lap, and she slowly opened it, for fear of breaking whatever was inside. She didn't shake it. Her thin fingers took the ribbon off deftly. When she came upon a plain looking brown box (after neatly setting aside the ribbon and wrapper), she took a deep breath.

It's just a gift; Hermione, she reminded herself as she stared into one more packaging of thin paper, wrapping her gift. She took the thin paper apart and stood up staring at his gift, holding it an arm's width away from her body.

"Oh…oh god…it's- "

Hermione felt like crying. No one had ever given her something like this. She laid it on the bed, the way a mother would lay her child down, the way a lover would lay a lover down…her hand was on her mouth and she bit one finger. It was too overpowering for words- too exquisite beyond description.

It's a dress, she told herself, just an amazing dress. But she couldn't shake off the instant feeling of being attracted even more to the polar opposite of her behavior. She placed it on a coat-hanger and then on a coat stand. It looked even more amazing against the soft lights in her room. Tastefully chosen by Draco, it was a formal dress, with a strapless top and a little flare at the bottom of the dress. There was an intricate pattern of beadwork that changed hues depending on the light that hit it.

She almost couldn't believe a man had chosen it, let alone Draco. She looked up and saw herself in the mirror. She was smiling again, as if she had begun to fall in love for the first time.

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He looked at the doorway to the turret, it was wide open, the snow and cold winds were rushing in through it and Hermione was no longer there. He looked at his clenched hand and opened it once more to reveal the gift. He hadn't opened it yet, but suddenly, it meant so much- like it was something priceless- something that could only be given by a soul mate- okay, maybe that was too much- something that could only be given by Hermione.

He tore apart the wrapper quickly, carelessly tossing it on the ground. He opened the box and stared at what was inside for a few seconds. His eyes were concentrating on the gift, like a scientist would do to an experiment about to come to life, like the way a lover realizes that the eyes of the one he loves are hazel brown…it was almost as beautiful as her.

It's just a pendant, he told himself, just a silver pendant. But he couldn't shake off the feeling of being attracted even more to the polar opposite of his behavior. He held it up, against the sky, the snows had gone down and the stars were popping out everywhere to illuminate the gift he held, dangling down from his left hand. She had given him a pendant, the size of a ring, with a little green gemstone in the middle of the circular pendant. It hung from a thin silver chain.

He began to smile, a smile of contentment- the knowledge that this was something else now. Something new, something beautiful, something fragile- and he couldn't feel the panic for the fragility, only the fierce need to protect it. He could feel his heart pounding, his veins bursting with exhilaration.

He was responding to the call of gravity.

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**A/N: **finally, an update. god, it's been a long time. i hope you still remember this. haha. p.s happy holidays.


	9. Like Someone in Love

**Like Someone in Love**

It wasn't a dream, Hermione thought, seeing the dress hanging on the coat rack. She admired it in the morning light when her stomach rumbled. She laughed aloud and laughed more, realizing she was alone and free to laugh all she wanted. It was nine in the morning. Breakfast ended at ten. Yawning, she stretched and moved out of the bed, careful to let her feet into her slippers first and not on the ice cold stone floor.

Half an hour later, she made her way to the Great Hall. It was empty except for a pile of food on one long table. She sat down, wrapped her thick sweater around her tighter and began to drink a tall glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. She heard footsteps behind her. She didn't look. The person sat across her.

He took a glass and filled it with orange juice. Then he cleared his throat. Hermione ignored him. Theodore Nott smirked at her. She ignored him again.

"Good morning, Head Girl. "

She nodded and continued eating an oversized waffle and put some honey on it.

"Did your tongue freeze at the roof of your mouth? " he asked her.

"Excuse me? "

"I greeted you a good morning, if you recall."

"Good morning, " she said quickly, not looking at him, feeling uncomfortable at the sudden attention he was giving her.

"See, it was as easy as that- "

Someone cleared his throat. Both Nott and Hermione looked up. It was Draco, standing with an almost frosty glare. He was wearing a black turtleneck and black slacks. He looked at Nott derisively, motioning for him to step away from her.

"What did I do wrong? " Nott asked with a malicious grin.

"Don't spoil your morning talking to someone from another house, " he said not looking at Hermione. He had hoped she would be quick to realize that it was just a ruse. He didn't like the way Nott was looking at her at all.

Hermione caught it immediately; Draco didn't like the way Nott was talking to her. It was an act, she knew it, but she could not help but feel a little dejected by Draco. Was he jealous?

Overprotective of her now? Did Nott somehow know-? She took a deep breath as she heard the two Slytherin males walk away from her and to another long table.

"What gives, Draco? " Nott drawled in a low voice, but still loud enough for Hermione to hear. "It's not like she was Pansy or anything- "

"I'd rather you shag Pansy than her. Merlin knows what diseases she has…" he hissed back, his voice too low for her to hear this time. He hoped she wouldn't hear any of what he had said.

Hermione continued to eat her waffles, but this time she didn't feel so hungry anymore. She mustered some willpower to finish what was left of her food and stood up to get out of the table when Professor McGonagall came in for a quick breakfast.

"Good morning, Miss Granger, " she greeted in a stern yet motherly tone. "Merry Christmas. "

She said her 'good mornings' and left. How McGonagall managed to be severe yet kind at the same time marveled Hermione always. She looked once more at Draco's direction. He was ignoring her completely. Like she was a house elf, or worse, like a speck of dust.

With just the three of them inside the Great Hall, Hermione felt a growing discomfort for every second that passed by. She walked outside of the hall, careful not to make noise.

Theodore Nott stared at her retreating figure. "You know, for someone from Gryffindor- that walking piece of brain doesn't look half bad. "

"By half bad, you mean comparable to an ogre?" Draco retorted, not daring to look at Hermione's back. He busied himself pouring some orange juice at some precise imaginary line on his glass.

"Say, comparable to that Hufflepuff from Third Year? The blonde one with the huge rack- the one Blaise almost- "

"She looked like a harlot, " Draco snapped, regretting he had.

"What gives? It's just a description. A comparison in accordance with what I see- "

"Perhaps you should get your eyes checked. I don't know what it is about those ladies from the other houses that you guys are so crazy f- "

"There is such a lack of good looking Slytherins, if you didn't notice. One of the few good looking ones though, is ready to strip in the middle of winter for you. "

Draco rolled his eyes, eating a waffle with blueberries on it. It was true, Draco thought. Pansy was willing to do anything for him. It annoyed him, yet he pitied her at the same time. Perhaps, it was instilled to deeply in Pansy that she should be at her best for him, some mantra played on by years of infatuation, pressed on further by her parents and by his mother.

"Strip during winter and not freeze to death. It could be something to look forward to, " Draco said languidly.

Nott laughed. "I just imagined that. "

"You know you didn't have to, " Draco closed his eyes, hating that he had begun to imagine it as well. But he had a different approach in his head. Pansy had frozen out completely, encased in an icy tomb. He tried not to laugh. He took a deep breath instead.

"Really, Nott. You surprise me. One day you're such a ladies' man, the next day you talk like a maniac- "

Nott gave a feign look of hurt. "Oh, the pain, Draco! Why do you subject me with such harsh words- you truly are from Slytherin. "

He laughed afterwards.

* * *

He found her an hour later in the Quidditch Pitch. She was standing atop the Gryffindor bleachers which were across Slytherins' bleachers. He stared at her for a little while, careful not to startle her. Her hair was whipping against her face in discord with the wind. She had her eyes closed while holding on to the wooden rails.

He cleared his throat and her eyes snapped open, looking to his direction.

"Damn it, I thought you were in the library. I searched every nook and cranny- well except for the Red and Gold quarters of the Gryffindor wing- "

"Took you long enough, " she grinned.

"Why are you here? In this place that's barren of books? And- " he stopped.

"And it's a place where I watched my cheater of an ex? Where I cheered on him for- years? " she continued for him.

"I was going to say something harsher, but those words will suffice. "

She smiled and sighed. "I'm just- I don't need to read books all day to distract myself, do I? Nor do I need to stay in places that people are so used to me being there. "

"And that would be the library? "

"Don't I have any other place?"

"None that I know of, " he laughed. "Unless you…secretly go to Hogsmeade or something. "

"Maybe I should change my lifestyle? To make it a part of exorcising my demons? "

"The only demon in your life is Weasley. He's no longer a part of your life by the way. "

"Right, I forgot you were pissing all over me to mark territory. "

"Change the P with a K, will you? " he snapped, hating that he sounded too much like a canine to her eyes. The joke sounded bitter now.

It took a moment for Hermione to get his joke and she laughed and leaned forward to pinch his nose playfully. Draco turned red and stepped back a bit.

"What the hell did you do that for?" he asked, not accustomed to candid displays of affection.

"Just being childish. "

"Father will kill me if I get to be one. " He raised his chin arrogantly, although he did not mean to look so.

"You were forced to grow up fast, " Hermione stated, not minding the look he sent out. She was actually learning to accept his little annoying looks.

"Coerced is a better word, " he replied. "You just have to…learn to adjust. If your parents are like mine…you have to learn how to act the way they want you to act. "

"By acting like a complete arse? " she laughed.

"Not funny, Hermione Granger- "

"I know how it feels, though, " she interrupted him. "How you should act like who you act, because it's how people see you. Stupid but it works for us. "

"You know, I've thought about it. Charades don't last forever. "

"Smartest thing you've said so far, " Hermione laughed again.

Draco smirked. "I'm touched. Bloody touched. Oh, Merry Christmas, by the way. "

"Your gift- " she began, her face reddening. "How did you-"

He grinned slyly. "So you loved it..."

Hermione reddened again. "I liked it a lot! "she said in futility, her facial hue belying her words. She looked at Draco's eyes, seemingly warmer now…

"Yes, I loved it! " she snapped, as if ashamed of the confession.

"I'm glad to hear that. If it makes you less conscious, I loved the pendant you gave me, " he winked, feeling his ears redden a bit.

She gave a laugh. "You don't have to be that nice, you know. "

"It's true. "

Somehow she felt that it was the truth. Draco said nothing more.

Draco took a deep breath. "You know, when I play Quidditch, I feel freer than I'll ever be. Probably what Potter feels as well- not that we think alike or anything, but you get the point. "

"What does Quidditch have to do with us?" Hermione said, without missing a beat.

"Wait, will you?" he snapped softly. "Quidditch is far from what I feel when we're together, " he breathed out.

"Freer? " she said, not looking at him.

He suddenly reached out, held her hand and squeezed it tight. Hermione's heart skipped a beat this time. This was true, wasn't it? If she believed in it, there was a chance it could be true. How she wanted to believe it. She believed it already. It had not felt this special, not with Ron. Not with anyone. She took a deep breath, all inside her head. Her hand slowly clutched Draco's. She was afraid to look at him. It felt like the point of no return now. It felt like he was making her belong to him, body and soul- even if he said nothing.

He was eyeing her closely, wondering how she would react. If she would take the bait, if she would fall the way he wanted her to…He felt her gentle fingers intertwine with his own hand. It was that delicate touch that made his heart pound even more, like a tidal wave crashing inside. This was the point of no return, he thought. If he thought he had fallen for her the night before, he was terribly wrong. The magnitude of it suddenly hurt his chest. He held her hand tighter, felt more warmth than he had ever felt in years.

"I- I hope this isn't wrong, " he murmured, not looking at her.

He heard an intake of breath.

"I don't know. Really..." her voice trailed off. She still did not let go of his hand. "If this is- it'll be the first time I'm wrong. "

They burst into laughter.

"About time! " Draco said, his cheeks still red. " I was waiting for you to break the ice. I couldn't stand the pressure. "

She smiled and took away her hand softly. "Me too. "

Draco gave a sigh. " I don't know what's going to happen, I can't predict what will…"

"Of course you can't. That's why it's aptly called the 'future'."

"I should have taken those classes seriously, except I quit. "

Draco laughed, remembering Hermione's abrupt leave and impatience with Divination. It had caused minor controversy within Hogwarts, with Hermione losing her cool over a subject she deemed fraudulent.

"I wonder how you'll look like wearing that..." Draco suddenly mused.

She smiled. "You might now sooner or later. There's a February ball scheduled. Not my idea of course- "

"I know it's not your idea. But whoever thought about it has just saved my fantasy, " he smiled.

"It's the prefects from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, " she said. "There was no formal ball this year, so they thought of a 'better' replacement for the next year, " she said, cringing a bit.

"Thank you, " Draco murmured jokingly to the skies.

Hermione pinched his arm. He pretended to be hurt and then grinned.

"But seriously, " he told her in all seriousness, "I'm holding my breath till that moment comes."

She gave a small smile, trying to suppress that giggly feeling growing inside her. "Really now, you'll be red in the face. A spotty Malfoy just won't do. "

He laughed and kissed her cheek all of a sudden. "All in a day's work to win you over. "

From a short distance, with narrowed eyes, a person smiled. It was a malicious, crooked grin reserved for people who were used to betraying others. The scene was rather interesting, all in all. Such breaking news this was to become….there would be headlines, the Gryffindor lass would be crucified by all mudblood haters, Draco would be whipped for coercing with someone not of the pureblood kind…the person nearly laughed at the thoughts growing every millisecond. The person blinked. Just a bit more time, then…and all would know.

* * *

a/n: i am so sorry for the tremendously long wait! here's a glass of wine hoping i continue more often! lol


	10. Hidden Place

**Hidden Place**

* * *

-

_She gasped, whirled around, hearing the voice so familiar it tore her heart before she saw him in person. To be betrayed twice by love… how cruel could her fate be? He was eyeing her, like a man eyes something he finds easy to play with, a mordant smile played on his lips, his eyes gleamed with her ache. _

"_You know, " he began, his icy voice echoing in her ears. "I almost did love you. Almost. But I guess the fairytale ends here…" He pushed her after biting her lower lip._

_And she felt herself fall, a scream reverberated in her ears, a scream unlike her own but it was hers for sure. He watched as she fell, still smiling, another woman stood beside him, laughing at her descent into darkness. _

_She was in free fall, her heart thudded painfully in her ears…_

Hermione blinked rapidly, trying to figure out if the rapping noise was part of her dream, or part of some evil scheme to get her out of bed early- who the bloody hell would do that? She groaned and rolled off of the bed, and stumbled for the window. She saw a tiny owl, the ones that Hogwarts kept for students who didn't have their own. It had piece of parchment tied to its leg.

"It was just a dream, " she told herself. She read it and smiled a bit, quickly rummaging her drawer for a tin can of homemade biscuits Mrs. Weasley had sent the day before. She broke off a biscuit into two pieces which the owl consumed greedily.

"Cheeky little bugger, " she murmured with a smile, as the owl flew off, nipping her hand a bit as means of 'thank you'. She nearly forgot the letter on top of the table. She quickly opened it and laughed out loud.

_I have something to show you later after breakfast. _

_Move your arse you highly attractive woman!_

_ D.M_

Quickly, she took a shower and brushed her teeth, dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a dark turtleneck sweater, put on a pair of knee high boots and tied her damp hair into a bun. She was torn between feeling happy for the little morning note, but disturbed at the same time by her dream. She shook the thought off. Dreams meant many things and she would rather not waste time divining it.

Walking down from Gryffindor tower, she noticed how the weather seemed a bit clearer now than the blizzard yesterday. Snow covered the grounds and the turrets and the Black Lake had not yet frozen over. She shivered a bit and took a deep breath, hating the cold that stung her throat and nostrils. She walked down a few flights of stairs and headed for the Great Hall. There was no one inside except for a skinny first year Hufflepuff who was running a cold.

"Hello," she said amiably.

He smiled back and swallowed a spoonful of warm pudding. It was apparently his last fill of pudding, as he shyly excused himself away from the Head Girl.

She quickly had a glass of orange juice and a waffle with blueberries. Then she proceeded for the long and wooden bridge connecting to Hagrid's hut. Draco was there already, looking out at the miles and miles of snow covering the grounds.

The end of Christmas break was coming too soon, much to Hermione's disappointment and Draco's as well. They had discussed a few 'methods' on how to communicate with each other more effectively, meet-ups were going to be nothing short of a spy mission of sorts, Hermione laughed, telling him this was like a cheesy, romance and espionage infused muggle film.

"You know, " he began, sitting on the wooden railing. "I felt this strange feeling earlier. "

"Of?"

"Of someone following me. "

"I hope this isn't because of those muggle films I've been telling you about! " she laughed.

"Merlin, no, " he said, seriously. "It really felt like that. "

Hermione felt a sudden alarm. "You don't think…"

He squeezed her hand. "No, it couldn't have been Pansy, she just sent me a letter and a package. "

"A gift? "

"Jealous? " He hopped down from the railing.

"No, " was her quick reply.

He laughed and kissed her forehead. They were both leaning on the wooden railings this time. It was a crisp, bright morning and the two of them were enjoying a bit of warmth from the sun. They got to walking down, to the direction of that little cliff across Hogwarts Castle and beside the lake. The lake was clear like some black mirror, bottomless and foreboding.

"She got me a pair of gloves, " he told her. "I believe she tried to knit them herself- or with the help of a wand. It was bad. "

Hermione clicked her tongue. "It's an effort. Be thankful."

"Do you always have to see the good in everyone? " he drawled.

Hermione shrugged. It was in her nature. She felt an argument looming in the corner. She took a breath and changed the direction of their conversation. "You wanted to show me something? " she began.

Draco shook off the feeling of annoyance. The mere mention of anything related to Pansy suddenly felt so unbearable. There was no need to mention her, not when Hermione was around, for Merlin's sake. He quietly took a deep breath.

"Yes, " he replied. He felt better already. There was a way out of an argument, after all. He smiled a bit. "It's a little bit of something I'd like to call an 'obscured bequest'. "

"Like a surprise…"

He winked at her."In plain English, yes. "

She grinned. "Really now. You have a habit of surprises. "

"Only to people I like, " he said.

"I'm honored, " Hermione told him, faking a small curtsy.

He laughed wryly, his brows wrinkling for a millisecond. "Don't do that. I might just get used to having it my way again. Anyway, could you close your eyes and turn around. Please, " he added the 'please' as an afterthought when Hermione's upper lip curled.

Satisfied, Hermione closed her eyes and spun around. "What concoction is this Draco? " she sighed. "If this-"

"It won't harm a fiber in your body. Although your body is- " he paused and laughed as Hermione laughed aloud, opening her eyes a bit. "Don't open it yet, "he said quickly. She sighed again and closed her eyes.

"You trust me, right? " he whispered into her ear.

The question suddenly shook Hermione to the core. She shivered for a second, sure it wasn't the snowy day's doing. Did she trust him well enough to go blindfold? In the weeks she'd known Draco better and more than anyone...

"Yes, " she whispered back. He felt his hands glide over her head and felt something warm and soft cover her eyelids, up until her nose.

"Follow me, " he said quietly. "Don't say a word. "

Hermione's mind suddenly flashed with scenes of murder, like her dream…. He would push her off some cliff and leave her wandless, to die. Or he would drown her in the Black Lake, where no one would ever find her. She pushed it away, such thoughts made friendship and blossoming love fail. This wasn't Ron, this wasn't just anyone else, this was Draco Malfoy, holding her hand, asking her to trust him. Trust was something important to Draco. She would be there to give it to him, readily.

She felt herself move, following Draco's movements. He was holding one of her hands; he was in front of her. Slowly they left the little precipice and Hermione felt clumsy without using her eyes. Draco was amazingly patient and quiet all of a sudden. She would feel snow crunch beneath her boots or she'd stumble a bit, and Draco was immediately beside her, ready to catch her. Every now and then he would stop, probably to find which best way it was for them to pass, especially for her.

She said nothing, reassuring that she would follow his request. The walk suddenly felt long, longer than she could have imagined. She was almost tempted to say something, but she didn't out of respect and a growing excitement. She couldn't think of what he was going to show her. She didn't know where they were going now. She felt a cold wind slap her face all of a sudden and she near recoiled and slipped again.

"Are you alright? " he murmured.

She nodded, still saying nothing, her grip tightened on his shoulder, feeling the luxurious folds of his coat. She felt his warmth surrounding her as she remained blindfold. He smelled mildly of aftershave and forests on a fresh and chilly night.

He was so close to her face, he badly wanted to kiss her again. He could smell her hair-like rain and vanilla, the scent of soap that remained on her skin; it was like drinking it through one gulp of air and it near left him intoxicated. He steadied her. "We're almost there. "

She nodded once more, felt her throat go dry. She felt snowflakes fall all over her, melting all too quickly. She tried to envision where she was, imagined that she was walking on solid ground or that they were walking directly into Madam Rosmerta's for a pint of butterbeer. She heard something open, something that sounded like gravel or large stones chafing against each other. A draft hit both of them, and

Hermione smelled in musty air that hadn't been let out for quite some time. Draco led her in and the snow beneath their feet gave way to something more rock-solid. Then the solid became something soft, like grass. Warmth slowly entered her body, almost like someone had lit fires…She felt Draco behind her.

"Hermione, " he began. She shivered once more, with Draco standing behind her. "I'll tell you when to open your eyes. " He slowly took the blindfold off. "You can open them now. "

And Hermione's eyes fluttered open. She blinked and gasped. Blinked again. And again. It wasn't an illusion was it? To be surrounded by something so simple yet breathtaking at the same time? She spun around to see Draco surrounded by flickering candles inside multi-colored glass holders. They softened his otherwise arrogant chin. He was smiling gently. She looked at the ceiling and saw it covered with moss and an old wrought iron and wood chandelier with candles; the floor was covered with the green carpet as well.

"H-how did you- " she couldn't continue.

"Find it? Set it up? I'm glad you like it, though. "

"The understatement of the day…" she said softly. "But really…how did you come by this place?"

"Since...second year, I believe, " he said, sitting down on the thick moss. He patted beside him and Hermione sat down.

"That long? And no one's found out? " Hermione was a bit incredulous.

"No one, " he said proudly. "And no one will. "

"Where are we? "

"Why do you think it took so long to get here and on blindfold? " he laughed. "Would I tell you? "

She looked at the ceiling. "Hmm…yes. "

"You win. "

They both laughed and Draco nodded. "We're under the lake. "

Hermione gasped. "We are? How did you- "

"Know? " he said mildly. "Easy, when I found this, it used to have water until the knees. I found it simply enough. I was taking a walk around the lake, to be… uhm…far away from the Slytherin dormitory for awhile. I wasn't smart enough to avoid a tree root and I fell face down and then saw this huge clump of rocks in front of me. I was about to ignore it but I heard water lapping inside. Curiosity got the best of me, but I couldn't find a way to open it without knowing if it was cursed or part of those banned areas in school. I tried every opening charm. Nothing worked. So in the end, I snuck into the restricted books section. Found an entire chapter on opening passageways and tried everything there too. Nothing still worked. Then I found a tiny scrawl at the bottom, someone wrote something. It was in ancient runes. I wrote it over the stone wall and it lit up inconspicuously. The walls then parted. And there I was in knee high water," he laughed, "but the place- I knew it was mine to last. "

"You repaired it yourself? "

He nodded. "It wasn't easy. It took me until our fourth year to figure things out properly. But by then, I closed off the water coming into the cave and the moss grew by itself. " And as if reading her mind, he added, "You're the first person that I've brought here, no one else... " Draco lay down on the moss and Hermione followed suit. They looked at the ceiling, twinkling with dew and the reflections the candle lights sent all over the cavern.

"Maybe you were meant to find the room- "

"Like how I was meant to bring you here? " Draco asked her, not looking at her.

She licked her lips. "Something like that. "

"The fates were harsh to you, when an arse cheated on you. But I'm glad he did, or else I wouldn't have felt this happy in my life. "

Hermione eyed him sideways. His hands were under his head and he was still looking at the ceiling. "You're happy? " her voice croaked.

He nodded once. "Aren't you? "

"I think I am. "

"Be sure. Are you happy with me or not? "

"Aren't you going too fast? "

"Fast? Bloody hell," he said, sitting up. "To feel this way for someone- the span of time doesn't matter. What matters is that you're here with me. The day I take someone here, I told myself, that person had better be important to my life. "

"I'm important to you? "

"Are you going dense on me? "

"You're saying things that Draco Black Malfoy would never say, " she retorted.

Draco fell back on the moss. "Only to the wrong people, I'd never admit in my whole life. I'm a coward in that sense. But you- you're different. You're beautiful to me, in every way. " He felt his ears redden and he was thankful for the shadows casting all over. "And I damn hope you're over him. "

She sighed and held his hand. They were silent for a time, mindful only of each other's breathing and the playful shadows cast by the multicolored glass holders. Hermione thought she could almost hear the gentle sloshing of the waves from the lake against the cave's walls.

"Draco, I'm glad I've known you, known you better, " she said breaking the calm.

Draco closed his eyes. "It was a test, see? Me putting you on blindfold. I wanted to see if you'd trust me. And you did, you trusted me so much. And I'm thankful for that. But you have. You stumbled along the way but you said nothing, you didn't complain, you didn't hate me for making you trek all the way across Hogwarts. It was cold and dark for you. No one's ever trusted me blindly before. "

Hermione felt something deep within her stir. She felt rather emotional now, touched by his admission. He was so in need of someone to trust him, someone to care truly…and now here she was- an age old enemy of everything Slytherin hated, right beside the embodiment of a modern Slytherin prince.

"Hermione, something in your eyes made me kiss you that day, " he said. "Up till now, I don't know what caused me to do so. But I don't regret it, even if you slapped me…"

They laughed.

"It was an instant reaction, " she said. Then her tone changed. "Are you still planning on using me? I remember that thing you said, clearly. "

Draco shook his head once. "I don't even remember that anymore. Did I actually say that?"

Hermione laughed. "Amnesia all of a sudden. "

"I really don't, not unless I truly mean it. I'll admit I wanted you for awhile, won't hormone enraged men want someone very attractive like you?"

Hermione blushed to her roots and was glad Draco didn't look at her.

"Let's face it, you've changed a lot over the course of the years. No one is immune from how you look and how you are. You radiate, sometimes with over zealousness that it- annoys me. How you were fated to have a brain like that adds to the allure. Only a fool would let go of someone like you." He said nothing more about it; although it was quite obvious he was batting it out on Ron again.

"I think I'm over him. "

Draco was silent with her admission. How would he move next? Calculating with emotions was harder than he had thought. This was something that went beyond his grasp. He tried to understand what was going on; the simplest explanation was that he had indeed begun to feel something he had never felt for anyone before. How had it come to this? It quite frightened Draco, overcome by the fact that he might lose something tiny and precious in his heart if circumstances were to go against his moment of bliss- but it was also a reason to breathe now, breathe better…

He took a breath and held her hand all of a sudden. "Hermione, if- just in the probability that we might never become more than what we are now…I don't want you to forget this day. It might be the only thing I'll have that's happy to last me long enough to survive a nightmare. "

Hermione was tempted to tell Draco about her dream, but she shut it off, knowing how valuable this moment was now. She held his hand tighter and she saw him looking at her. She saw his eyes, they glittered in silvery-blue hues and she had never seen anyone so vulnerable yet. The moment was gone in a second. Draco would never allow pity to reign over himself…his eyes became guarded now, but gentle still.

"Will you let me love you? " he asked.

She was caught off guard. "I- I don't know what to say. "

"Yes or no, Hermione, " he smiled.

She nodded, feeling herself melt in his eyes. Not even Ron could make her feel this significant. Perhaps, it was because she had deemed Draco impervious in the truest sense of love. But he was asking her now, like he had asked for the greatest most difficult thing to give in life.

"Yes."

She had signed a death warrant without knowing it. But it didn't matter now. Draco leaned over to kiss her. She kissed him back, slowly the world faded away from them. He would get drunk again just by kissing her, everything about her was enthralling. He felt every inch of her slowly, kissing like it was his first, kissing like she would be his last. He was suddenly nervous. Why would he be? He had done this so many times…but this was Hermione. He wanted her, needed her. He wanted her to be his and his alone. If he could die right now, he would, for her.

He had given her a death warrant, without him knowing it. Hermione knew this was the moment wherein she could still stop, but she didn't. Whatever the outcome, it would not matter now. His scent drove her to frenzy in her mind, but she controlled it. Emotions were dangerous things, and she was disarmed with the fact that she almost loved him. She wanted him, needed him. She wanted him to be hers alone. And with that thought, Hermione lost her control. If she could have died right now, she would willingly do so- just for Draco.

* * *

-

**A/N** omg! more than a year onto this story and i'm still stuck on the holidays. again, my apologies. the real world is just so busy and sickly. haha. do people still read HP fanfiction? let's just say HP movie 7 gave me another jump start. ^^ till next chapter!


	11. Heirloom

**Heirloom**

* * *

It was the thrill of the touch, the height of pleasure, if the world were to end, if she were to die a painful death, none of it would matter. She wished time would move in its slowest motion, everything was a blur, but everything had more color. Every time he inhaled or exhaled on her skin, the world would shiver, and she would shudder, knowing she had no control over anything but the pleasure he gave her and the pleasure she felt melting into her bones.

She felt her hand touch his surprisingly lean chest. His pale skin tinged a healthy hue in the candle lights. His eyes blazed near hers her like heated silver; sweat began to form on his forehead despite the cool temperature of the cave. She felt her heart thrash like a drum, she felt nervous, clumsy but he kissed her fingers one by one and slowly caressed her face, never stopping the rhythm that made Hermione vulnerable.

He skillfully unhooked her brassiere. Her jeans were off now. The matching dark blue cotton lingerie against her creamy skin nearly proved too much, he was afraid he would go mad just seeing it. He fought for control, afraid he would ruin the memory of her first act of love with his immediate ways. He wanted to posses every inch of her. Nothing would ever be enough. He wanted time to freeze with her.

He needed her, he realized. And he shrugged the thought away. He thought of too many things at a time like this, he told himself to concentrate. Her eyes smoldered like copper now. She was responding beneath him with ardent pleasure, she who was so new- made him feel like he was an amateur. His hands roamed all over her and Hermione sucked in a gasp. He was going to take her to new heights and she would want him like she never wanted anyone before.

"I need you," he whispered almost inaudibly. He was touching her where she never thought she would be touched in years. Not until matrimony. Or not until she found the one. But he made it seem like he was the one. She couldn't speak, instead she held onto him tighter as he slowly entered that luscious, velvety warmth no other woman had given him yet. She gave another gasp and his hold around her tightened. Their pulse became one and they each shared the same heaven in the same precious instant.

* * *

They didn't know what time it was, but they didn't care. She lay close to him as did he. They listened to each other's quiet breathing, not saying anything, each secretly unable to believe something beyond incredible had occurred.

Hermione tried to collect herself, but she seemed overwhelmed. She had given herself completely and it would never be easy to let something as significant as this have a fleeting moment in her head…she had never felt this tranquil in a long time…

Draco tried to collect himself, but even the certified expert seemed overwhelmed. He had never felt this way for anyone, giving himself to a woman without holding back. A voice buzzed inside his brain, that things would never be the same- he had further complicated things…but he had never felt this calm in a long time.

"Did I- hurt you in any way?" Draco asked with hesitation.

"No," Hermione replied quietly. "Not at all."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure. I'm fine Dray," she paused abruptly, the name sounded alien but comfortable at the same time on her lips.

Draco smiled. He didn't like that nickname much, his mother and Pansy used it on him, but hearing Hermione say it…he smiled again. "It sounds nice, you saying my name."

"Not everyone gets to call you on a first name basis, " she said. "We always called you ferret boy or something along those lines."

Draco frowned, recalling that rather stand out, mortifying moment in his lower years. "Ah, I happened to hate that particular event. Let's stick to the prior name you mentioned."

She sat up and fastened her brassiere properly. Draco smiled. Hermione blushed, catching his gaze.

"What are you smiling at?" Hermione began.

"Do you want to hear my compliment?" he said mildly. She noticed he was wearing the pendant she gave him for Christmas and decided to say nothing about it. She did feel her cheeks smolder even more.

"As I was about to say, you look smashing in your lingerie."

"I don't know what to say back," she said, hoping her reddened cheeks would lighten soon. His gaze suddenly proved too much.

"You don't have to, I was just saying. I'm glad to be the first of many firsts in your adolescent life."

Somehow, it didn't sound bad, Draco saying that. She was glad as well, in the strangest way. To be 'deflowered' by Draco Malfoy seemed like a conquest but there wasn't an ounce of malice to what he said.

"You're not part of a subjugation of how many women I can bed," he said, as if reading her mind. He sat up also, facing her directly.

Hermione looked down for a second. "Either way, I'll remember this forever."

Draco looked at her again. "Even more so for me…" his voice trailed off. He cleared his throat. "I'm serious, Hermione."

"I know," she replied simply. She proceeded to reach for her turtleneck sweater and put it on.

Draco followed suit and placed his clothes back on, except for his thick coat. "What will you be doing after this?"

"Like I have anything better to do than be with you."

Draco laughed right out loud after hearing her remark. "I bloody swear you're getting to be funnier the more I get to know you."

"Well you're nearly peaches and cream," she said drily. She looked at him and broke into a smile. "Was I really that boring?"

"On a non-personal level? Hell, yes. Hermione the bookworm, Hermione the insufferable know-it-all, Hermione the teacher's pet- not including two of the faculty, Hermione the saint-"

"What we did awhile ago kind of ripped off my halo-"

Draco snorted and laughed again. "Well, you bloody sure aren't boring now! But seriously, you really were the stick-up-your-arse studious type. We thought you'd die with books surrounding you."

"We?" Hermione's upper lip curled a bit.

"By 'we', I meant Zabini and I," he said. He didn't mention Pansy at all, despite the fact that she had thought of it first back in their fifth year. Pansy had casually mentioned it while Hermione was holding up a book while cautiously extracting pollen from some rare plant in Herbology class. He remembered how the sunlight nicely framed her in a subdued sort of way, but of course he brushed the notion away after a few seconds. But that memory of her lingered in his mind once in awhile. It was actually one of his favorites. He had not told her this yet, doubting he would; as a form of self-preservation. He had revealed so much, after all.

"Ah, your mate," Hermione said, recalling how Blaise Zabini once tried to make a pass on her on the way to Potions. She had nearly been running late and so was Blaise. With a naughty smile, he told her they could skip classes for the morning and go somewhere quiet to smooth the tension between Slytherin and Gryffindor. He touched her waist with one hand, and she controlled the urge to cast a hex. Hermione had her wand ready and quietly muttered, 'Obliviate'. She felt a bit bad for abusing her prefect status back then, but she felt he deserved it. Blaise turned up forty minutes late, apologizing to the strict and bearded new Potions professor, mentioning he forgot he had Potions for the morning.

"No one is my mate," Draco sighed. "At least not by my choice or liking. We all have our parts to play. His family is influential; I have to mix with the 'right sort', in the words of my mother. If I had a choice, I'd go for no one's company-" he eyed her and added, "well, you're a different story."

She smirked. "Ah, of course. I'm a different story, something that should be kept secret."

"Just like how I am to you," he reasoned amiably. "No one in their present state of mind would ever accept us together. A Gryffindor and Slytherin together hasn't happened yet, ever."

"It has once," Hermione blushed, realizing her input was embarrassing. "I read it," she said defensively. "It happened around 200 years ago."

"Do tell," Draco said, stretching and lying down on the thick moss once more.

She sighed. "It was like a fairytale. Only it wasn't such a happy one. They were both students, the female was in Slytherin, male of course; in Gryffindor. There wasn't much information from what I read, but I kind of filled in the parts. It said that they were a secret couple, only coming out into the open once they graduated from Hogwarts. Her family raised hell; he was half-blood, despite the fact that his family was distantly related to Godric Gryffindor himself. The text said that the girl's family killed off the guy's muggle-born mother, placing the blame on the Slytherin girl. In the end, the guy died and the she went on to marry someone else of pure blood."

"He died?" Draco raised an eyebrow. "How the bloody hell did that happen?"

She shrugged. "It just said he died. "

Draco sighed. "If he died still loving her, that's loyalty for you."

Hermione shrugged again. "It still is a pretty sad story. You're actually left to your imagination on what happened."

Draco frowned. "I'm bad with making stories up in my head. "

"Let's not bother with that, then," she said. "But I kind of feel like we're repeating a bit of history."

Draco frowned a bit, unable to imagine the horror of either one of them dying without being together for the longest of times. In his guarded thoughts, he actually dreaded the story. It was bloody unfair, he felt cheated for the both of them, and here they were, slowly repeating the same thing that happened in the story. A secret love affair…

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," he snorted, clearly bothered. "It's almost certainly made up. Where did you read that? Some Knut romance novel by a spinster witch?"

Hermione laughed. "Library. 'Notable Hogwarts Students from 1700 to 1860'."

"It's still most probably made up," he said, not believing a word he said. "They didn't even bother to place names."

"Someone was pleasant enough to burn their names off of the book," Hermione said.

Draco huffed. "How utterly convenient."

He slowly stood up and fastened the buckles on his dragon hide boots properly. They were a gift from his grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy, before he had died all moldy colored and blistered from head to foot of Dragon Pox. Again, the boots were another reminder of his pure bloodedness.

Hermione smiled and put on her thick boots. She stood up and looked at the ceiling again. The candles were halfway melted, but they still shone like little crystal lights.

"I guess we'll have to head for Hogwarts now," Draco said dispassionately.

Without warning, Hermione kissed him on the lips. His eyes widened as he kissed her back and she pulled away.

"Left me breathless; mind you," Draco said. He smiled and ruffled her hair playfully, as he stood a full seven inches above her.

She grinned. "I knew it would."

"Don't push it."

"I won't."

"Wait, I change my mind," he laughed.

* * *

Draco slid into the Slytherin Common room with an unguarded and calm look on his face. Theodore Nott was lazily sitting on one of the plush olive green couches, practicing a charm that resembled the weak form of a freezing charm. There was a glass of wine in front of him, a spilled portion of it half frozen in midair, while the remaining wine inside the glass sloshed about just like water on a fine summer day. The wine in midair landed with a breaking sound on the black table as Draco went in.

"Bloody-!" Nott began. "Oh, it's you, Draco."

Draco said nothing. He seemed annoyed that he wasn't alone, especially when company meant the dodgy looking Theodore Nott. His mousy blonde hair was a mess all over compared to Draco's polished and relaxed looking one.

"Oy!" Nott said, trying to catch his attention.

"What?" Draco said, not turning to face Nott. He was heading up the stairs already.

"A letter came for you."

Draco spun around. "Letter?"

Nott motioned for the table near the fireplace found in the far right corner of the Slytherin Common Room. There, an envelope had his name written elegantly was placed right dab in the center of the tube. Draco strode for the table and quickly snatched up the letter. He tore the envelope's seal (his family seal, actually) open without care.

_Draco,_

_In the urgency of matters concerning family business, I suggest you come home for a short while without delay. One or two days shall settle said concerns. I have sent a letter to Headmistress McGonagall, explaining the need that you come home. Floo Network should do for travel. _

_Awaiting for your return, _

_Mother_

Draco frowned, with the first sentence. Family Business…he felt a strange feeling in his stomach, that of fear and suspicion. The last time he felt this way over a letter was during his sixth year, when his father had forced him to let Deatheaters in the castle by way of Portkey. He hadn't gotten away totally scot-free of course. An inquisition was made, his family connections came through for him- at the expense of Dumbledore's untimely death through Snape and the early end to the school year. He knew everyone feared him or hated him because of that, of course it wasn't spoken aloud, though. It was his deep horror that he kill Dumbledore with his own hand and words. Fortunately, Snape came through for him, as he promised to Narcissa, his mother.

He gulped and quickly went up to his dormitory room and shut the door. He sat at the edge of the bed, his mind running with a million thoughts. Did his mother find out about Hermione? Did she know he now had a change of heart? Like he had thawed all of a sudden? What about this father? He was away for safety, hiding, as the Aurors called it. His father was somewhere deep in the heart of Albania for all he knew. He had no word from his father in more than six months. It was a rather sordid affair, the failure to capture Hogwarts. The Wizarding community turned it into frenzy, demanding that the Malfoy family be incarcerated in Azkaban. His other older comrades had fled, hidden in the most secretive localities, biding their time for the Dark Master's call again. No connections came from his Aunt Bellatrix; who doted on him like she was his own mother. She had taught him more than her fair share of her talent in the Dark Arts when he was younger. The countless days they spent, pouring over books in their library, the countless hours spent to learn a few curses using her wand when under aged wizards were traced, he remembered she had taught him well, from Occulumency to Legilimency and even nonverbal spells…

He had both hands clasped close to his mouth, his feet planted firmly on the ground. What was happening? He wished he could predict the future…There was a week left before classes in Hogwarts would resume, the only time he could have with Hermione. But he felt duty calling out for him like a temptress, his duty as a son, to the one person who wanted to save him from a lifetime in Azkaban- his mother.

He would leave tonight, then, he decided. He only had to tell Hermione his mother had called sick. He nodded. It was a simple way to explain things.

She was walking down the corridor on the way to the Great Hall for dinner when someone approached her, the footsteps echoing. The torches flickered in the wintry breeze.

"Dray?"

He looked up, determined to push through. "Hermione- "

"Do you want to have dinner together? I meant in non-speaking terms," she joked.

He shook his head. "Listen, I have to leave for a while."

Her tone changed to that of concern. "Leave?"

"Mother isn't feeling well; I suppose I shall have to go home. Just for a few days," he was eyeing her carefully now, "Two days at most." He saw her eyes flash sympathy. Damn Hermione for being so kind! "Don't worry. It's probably just some winter flu."

She nodded, she had a mother after all and even she would rush home in a heartbeat if her mum was terribly sick. "I- well take care. Do you still have Floo powder?"

"How'd you know?" he smiled. "Yes, I still have enough."

"Well, it's the best way out of here," she reasoned.

He hugged her tight all of a sudden. "I'll see you in two days, alright?" He kissed her forehead, definite that he was going to miss her more than he could imagine now.

Hermione enjoyed the brief moment, without an inkling of how big a deal it all really was.

* * *

**A/N: **I'm actually pleased that I've not been so late with this new chapter. As per Christmas holiday cheer, give me some loving with your reviews. lol. but seriously, thank you for sticking with me as i write this story. ^^ here's to more inspiration to write!


	12. Alarm Call

**Alarm Call**

* * *

He dusted some ash off his coat, as he stood, newly arrived at his family manor. He was inside their largest sitting room, standing inside a fire place that was at least three times taller than he was. The thick curtains were drawn and dust lingered in the air. Large paintings hung on the walls, faces so like his, faces of the long dead and pureblooded who were asleep. Someone cleared her throat. He turned facing to the right and saw his pale mother sitting on a red velvet upholstered chair. Her dark brown eyes were framed by thick lashes. She was wearing a black dress with a silver brooch of his grandmother's, Druella; fastened about her neck. Someone else was in the room, sitting across his mother.

His eyes widened. "Aunt Bella-"

She smiled at him, her yellowish teeth gleaming in the subdued lights, her hair more or less in the same tangled state as he had last seen her. "Draco, my favorite nephew!"she said with relish. She stood up and strode over to him, touching his face with her palms on either side, near lovingly- except for that manic glint in her eyes.

"You're here…" he stammered. "How-" His heart was beating abysmally all of a sudden.

"A matter of good planning, my dear boy."

He looked back at his mother and saw guarded ache in her eyes, torn with fierce allegiance for her sister and terror for the man they entitled as their master. "Your aunt will stay here for a day or two, depending on the plans."

He almost couldn't nod. His aunt standing before him meant that they truly were back in 'business'. So this was what it was all about. But how were they going through with the plans? They had lost Hogwarts the last time…painfully so. He shuddered to imagine what-

"Anyway, my dear boy," Bellatrix interrupted his thoughts. "What the Dark Lord requires of you is pretty simple. I want you to-"

"Wait, I thought I had fallen from his grace."

Bellatrix laughed. "You have, but I was able to persuade him that you had some use still, you were instrumental with Dumbledore's death, after all. Now listen my boy, I don't have much time here, as Aurors have become rather stringent," she grinned at the word 'stringent', "but I will lay down a few plans we've made with your Uncle Rodolphus."

He almost cringed. His aunt's husband was the male version of her; sadistic, manipulative, cunning and above all, fiercely loyal to the Dark Lord. One of the few who had searched for him upon his downfall.

He cleared his throat. "Does father know?"

Bellatrix's brow rose. "I haven't seen him in ages, boy."

"So it's just us four?" he looked at his mother. Narcissa's lips pursed, revealing her resentment to another act for the Dark Lord. He saw his mother nod.

"For the meantime," Bellatrix crooned. "Now Draco, I want you to listen and listen-" she paused and her eyes darted for a crack in the door. She opened it with a flick of her wand and saw no one there. She flicked her wand once more and the door shut with a loud bang. "Can't be too careless, now, can we? Anyway, where were we? Ah, now Draco, listen well. The Dark Lord is hidden safely as of the moment, he's convalescing- he needs to draw strength, while he does, I want you to do a few things for his glory."

"If this includes killing McGonagall-"

"Nonsense! She is of no use, although it would be pleasant enough as a past time later on. Draco, I want you to-"

"Bella, is this really necessary?" Narcissa interrupted almost feebly. The countless measures she had taken-

Bellatrix shot her a glare. "Cissy, you know we have to move! The Potter boy shall gain more skill if we do nothing to damage him now. We have to move while we can. This is buying the Dark Lord some time."

"There can be other ways. I don't want Draco to-"

"What, Cissy, what? How many times do I have to tell you, you should be proud to have a son like Draco, keen and competent to serve the Master! No one gets another opportunity at-"

"I'm just saying, what if this could kill him?" Narcissa trembled, standing up to face her older, taller sister.

Bellatrix was breathing roughly, intent on showing what an honor it truly was to be able to work for the Dark Lord. She towered over Narcissa, like a dragon breathing fire. Narcissa felt herself recoil. She held Bellatrix's free hand.

"Bella, he's the only one I have now," she spoke quietly this time, still holding onto her hand with imploring eyes.

"Lucius, you'll have him back soon. We just need to prod this a bit, you know, Cissy? It's crucial. It's a matter of life and death, the Dark Lord's, ours and Draco's!" she snapped, taking her hand away.

Narcissa stepped back and sank on the chair, unable to look at Draco, looking crushed and disheartened. Her pale hand fluttered around her mouth nervously as she stared at the drawn curtains, the fire in the grate casted strange, sinister shadows all around their faces, like the Dark Lord's hands creeping about them without their knowledge.

Bellatrix knelt down beside her sister's hunched figure. "Cissy, you remember what father told us? About sorting with the right kind? You married into the Malfoys, I married into the Lestranges. We all have our key parts to play. This is our part, to be subservient to the one master that will reinstate our status as sovereigns in this world- and perhaps in the muggle world soon. So let Draco play his part now. This is his fate."

Draco felt a pit form in his stomach with his aunt's last sentence. He stared, unable to move, watching his mother control her tears, looking strong for her older and more vicious sister. He cleared his throat.

"Aunt Bellatrix, what would he have me do?" he asked in a controlled voice.

Bellatrix stood up and slowly made her way for Draco. She stared at him for quite some time, her mouth forming into a twisted smile. Draco felt his brain being pushed back and forth somehow, some sort of pressure was forming. His head throbbed, he knew what was happening. Bellatrix was trying to get into his mind. Legilimency at its finest, only after the Dark Master and Dumbledore…The pressure was beginning to feel agonizing now and Draco stood ground, forcing himself to betray nothing, mustering all his courage to fight the invasion of his mind with Occlumency. It seemed like his aunt's hand was probing through the folds of his dura mater, he could feel light headedness and at the same time a throbbing pain. He could hear her speak; despite the fact the all she did in front of him was set her mouth in a straight line.

_It's simple, really. End the school year early, February should do, of course some of us will be there to help you…Your mother is weak at heart, my nephew. She'll never get past the fact that risks need to be taken, life is treading precariously for you. But you should be grateful to have served the Dark Lord. No one gets another chance...There is a room in Hogwarts, near the…._ Draco felt his jaw harden, his fist clutched tightly into a ball. His eyes narrowed once in awhile. He saw twisted images surface. He saw the Dark Lord's hands pointing to something. Something inside the castle, something valuable held in a room. He saw the faces swimming in his mind, images formed of the Master's bidding. He felt his throat go dry, his aunt was whispering to him in his mind still, telling him what to do, telling him how to move, teaching him like she had always been his mentor… Then, in an instant, the voice was gone inside his skull and he felt his knees buckle, still reeling from the mental pain.

He quickly held onto an armchair's headrest and tried to breathe normally. His mother started for him but he quickly shot out a palm to make her stay where she was.

"I'm fine; mother."

Narcissa almost glared at Bellatrix as she stood her ground.

"Come now, Cissy," Bellatrix began. "I meant to confer wisdom, not harm my nephew."

"I made that promise to keep my son safe a year ago, don't make me do it again."

Bellatrix huffed and plopped on a couch. "Boo-hoo, big Fidelius with good old Snape, we should never trust him, I don't care what you say, Cissy. His intentions are far different from ours, besides that promise has been fulfilled and broken upon your agreement and Snape's, fortunately his death came in the right-"

"My intention is to save my son."

"He doesn't need saving, Cissy! Do you need saving Draco?" she eyed her tall and pale nephew who echoed Lucius' appearance down to the color of his hair… except she was quite fond of Draco and had thought of his father as a spineless servant to the Dark Lord. She once wished she could have had a son just like him, but quickly forgot this upon becoming a full pledged Death Eater.

"No," Draco replied quickly, trying to sound as apathetic as possible.

"Oh Draco," Narcissa stifled a sob, falling back onto the chair once more.

Bellatrix pursed her lips and rolled her eyes a bit. "Really now; Cissy. You sometimes act like mother."

"I am a _mother_," Narcissa said disconsolately.

Bellatrix laughed right out loud after hearing her sister say that. "Draco won't be harmed in the process," she sputtered, still laughing. "I did instruct him on how to move."

Draco nodded. "I'll be fine, mother."

Bellatrix stopped laughing and started pacing up and down the room. She was twirling her wand around comically, but her eyes betrayed her hands. They had become cold and calculating again. She stood still for a second and then continued walking back and forth. "Don't fail us Draco. Don't fail your mother, don't fail your Aunt Bellatrix and most of all don't fall the Dark Lord. This may be his last chance at that Potter boy."

"I won't fail anyone," Draco said lifelessly, unable to believe he had been able to utter such damming words.

Bellatrix smiled with relish again and cackled. "That's a boy!"

Narcissa said nothing, but her lips quivered with ache and disgust.

* * *

It was past midnight when a door creaked open. Draco looked up from a chair and saw his mother come in. He resumed staring out into the expanse of their manor, the vast grounds covered in white, pure, like his blood, pure like his intentions for Hermione, pure like Hermione herself…

"Yes, mother?" he said, almost blearily.

She took a seat across Draco, looking around Draco's room, saying nothing. It still looked the same, even after eighteen years. The room, which had been selected by Lucius, was closest to the library. It had its own terrace and bathroom, complete with a rather large tub, the faucets and other fixtures made of gold. All in all, his room was probably bigger than the Slytherin Common Room. The four poster bed made out of dark oak was still the same bed Draco had had when he had turned three years old, and he had cried, hating the idea of sleeping alone. There was a bulky mirror fit onto a wall with intricate carvings of cherubs, roses and thorns, opposite to a large cabinet that could have fit around three hippogriffs inside, filled with his clothes Narcissa bought from various localities in Europe, mostly from the so called 'finest wizardry' haberdasheries. The dark wallpaper that surrounded his room was beginning to look faded now. From birth, she had chosen all of Draco's things, except for his books, Narcissa mused, suddenly.

She looked back at her son and felt a pang of pain surge through her chest. "Draco-"

"If you're worried for me, I can fend for myself well."

"I- yes, I know you can," she said, sighing. Draco had always been very independent, even as a little boy and she found it so difficult to show the least bit sentimentality, for Lucius had never liked the idea of his only son growing soft. The closest she could show her love was through carefully chosen words, a hand on the shoulder, or holding his hand for never more than a minute.

"This is the part we must play, I suppose," Draco began. "I feel I was born to serve someone we all fear."

Narcissa's eyes widened, surprised to hear her son talk about something very private. "It isn't like that at all. You were born to make us happy."

"Happy?" Draco repeated in bitterness."When have we been ever truly happy? We were born into families because of obligation, not out of pure happiness."

Narcissa said nothing; the truth came to her like a cold rush to the head. She had denied it, said nothing. She was the subservient one, whether as a daughter, sister or wife. She had married once for love (it seemed so faint now) and then for convenience.

"Don't add romance to the story, mother. I know how pleased father was to have a son, and how you would have even settled happily if you had a girl. But here I am now."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," she told him, not looking at Draco.

"As what we all must do- we adjust. You didn't have to do that Fidelius Charm."

Narcissa's eyes snapped up. "There are some things you will fail or refuse to understand."

"I understood perfectly. And I was a coward. But not this time. Not anymore," he said impersonally.

Narcissa sighed. "I don't get to see you often. Sometimes I forget you've grown up."

A shadow of a smile played on Draco's lips as did Narcissa's. "I should keep reminding you. But Aunt Bellatrix is doing a hell of a job."

"Sometimes, I wish I was as strong as your aunt," Narcissa said wistfully. "I tagged along with them all the time, your Aunt Bellatrix and that other sister."

"She has a name."

"I've tried to forget it."

"Aunt Andromeda isn't that bad."

"Just a blood traitor," Narcissa quickly said, memories of that horrible fight within the family that eventually led to disowning Andromeda for marrying a muggle. All three of them had been inseparable, until they each entered Hogwarts.

"That was a highly perfect example of marrying for love, then."

"Draco, would you honestly have me believe that you're willing to allow contact with blood traitors and Mudbloods?" she said pursing her lips.

"It's a highly derogatory term, mother. They still have magic in them anyhow."

"Are you taking up Muggle studies?"

"No."

"Then why are you being sentimental all of a sudden?"

"I've read stuff. Not all blood traitors are horrible as you believe and neither are Mudbloods."

"Your father will-"

"Kill me? Come on, mother. We've been living in fear all our lives, fear of the Master, fear of father's rage, fear of blood tainting and all those other bloody prejudices."

"A choice. All of them are because we have to choose which is best."

"Fear is not a choice."

"Fear makes you choose."

Draco was silent. It was true. Fear made his mother choose her path, fear made his father a slave to the Dark Lord, fear made his aunt Bellatrix blatantly devoted over the Dark Lord.

"We can always choose not to fear him," he said, referring to the Dark Lord.

"It is too late for that," she sighed. "It's been too long." She cleared her throat, determined to change the subject. "But still, we must look forward to things, like you inheriting the Malfoy manor in a few years."

Draco's gaze shifted to his mother's face."Inherit the what?"

"The manor."

"I'm not even married yet, it's been stipulated in the will, I read it."

"Your father changed it after your sixth year."

Draco's eyes widened a bit, and then they grew cold again."He changed it, huh? I bet he's coercing me to marry straight out of graduating from Hogwarts."

"He wouldn't divulge his reasons. But whatever that is, he's giving it to you, whether you marry or not."

"Marriage. It sounds so contrived."

"We all have our reasons, Draco. I had my reasons to marry your father."

"Did you ever love him at all?"

Narcissa blinked thrice. The question drummed into her brain. She nodded once, although it was a barely there nod. "I believe I did."

"Did he ever love you?"

Narcissa stared out into the window. She saw fresh snowflakes falling on the black windowpane. Did he ever love her? She never stopped to think. Twenty years into a marriage, twenty years of never questioning whether there was the slightest possibility of affection from him…she paused, trying to recollect any moment of their lives together that he had shown her love. She closed her eyes, memories of their courtship in Hogwarts surfaced in her mind.

She had been a year lower than Andromeda and Lucius when the then fifth year Lucius had caught sight of her changing beauty. She recalled how Lucius approached her in the library one day and sat beside her, asking her if he could take her out to Hogsmeade the following weekend. Surprised at the sudden interest by the golden haired boy, she said no. He persisted, frightening her other suitors off, until his magnetism began to take its toll on her.

He had coaxed her into making a perfect pure blood marriage; something their bigotry agreed on, her beauty came second and so did her other qualities. She was a prized catch first, a trophy wife who would do anything. The son came in as consolation. A good consolation, nonetheless…Narcissa looked at her son with a mixture of a mother's pain and a wife's duty. She sighed again and didn't say anything more. She could deny that thought, as always.

"He never did," Draco said bitterly again. "The one person who would have died for him…" his voice trailed off in disgust.

"I would die for you, Draco. Make no mistake about that too."

"You deserve someone better."

"I have you. That is all that matters."

"Get some sleep, mother."

Narcissa nodded, seeing that as a reason to depart from her son's room. She stood up and stroked her son's head once with her tapered fingers, decorated with rings. Then she retreated, closing the door without so much of a sound. Draco stared at the door for a minute, wondering if his mother could even sleep a wink, for he knew he could not. The reality of the situation suddenly bagged him down, and he felt a growing concern slither through him once more. He remained seated and thought of how to move through every plan his aunt had told him, without compromising the one person he now had a reason to live and die for.

* * *

A/N: pleease do review? it's my only consolation with the hours and input i've put up. thank you. ^^


	13. One Day

**One Day**

* * *

Narcissa woke up groggily and saw someone else in the room, there was a slight gap in the curtains, letting in a little of wintry sunshine into the spacious room that she and Lucius shared. He was sitting down, with his back turned and for a moment she thought it was Lucius who was on a chair facing the window.

"You're awake early," she remarked putting on a robe.

Draco stood up and greeted his mother with a smile. "Let's have breakfast together, shall we, mother?"

She nodded and they walked out off the room and into a long hallway filled with endless moving portraits of their Malfoy relatives long gone. At the end of the hallway came a large grand staircase leading to the second floor. Narcissa opened a door nearest to the staircase and stared for a moment, in shock.

A lady was seated on a gilded chair dressed in black robes, her chin regally thrown up in the air, her hair neatly combed through. "Ah, you're a late woman, you are."

"Mother?" Narcissa gasped, unable to believe that her long deceased mother had come back from the dead and looking younger at that.

She cackled, and it was the laugh that gave her away. "Don't be silly, Cissy. That old bean has been dead for a long time now, the last time I checked."

"Bella?" she gasped again, unable to believe the transformation. Bellatrix stood up, with a look that Narcissa hadn't seen in two decades. She was the beautiful and regal Bellatrix she had known years ago, her robes had been replaced with new ones, her hair, normally the tangled mess everyone recognized, had become tamed.

"Yes, I went to the parlor," she said huffily." You do know I'm kidding right? I just took a long bath, I believe I deserved it."

Narcissa nodded, unable to speak.

"You look like you've seen a ghost! Sit!" Bellatrix laughed, inviting Narcissa for breakfast.

Draco smiled and offered out a seat for his mother. Narcissa sat down opposite her older sister, still digesting the new appearance Bellatrix had. Draco took a seat beside his mother. Fresh tea was brewing and freshly baked croissants and bagels filled the room with a wonderful scent, a rather welcoming scent to the manor.

"Ah!" Bellatrix said with relish. "I haven't had this in ages. Pass me the bagels, Draco."

Draco passed his aunt the basket of bagels and looked at his mother who had not moved since she sat down."Would you like some, mother?"

She shook her head and looked up to her sister who was obviously enjoying the good breakfast. "Is this a part of the plan?"

"What? Looking like mother?" Bellatrix said. Then she grinned."Yes, just a little panache to the preparations."

Narcissa nodded, her hands growing cold as she held her tea, the tea suddenly refused to warm her. They were using the fine china that their mother had given as a gift to Narcissa on her wedding day. She noted the gilded vines circling the white china, reminiscent of their family tree at 12 Grimmauld place. Bellatrix was looking at her, a strange look in her eyes.

"Do I really remind you of mother, Cissy?"

"Just the way she looked," Narcissa said curtly.

"Still, I remind you. Mother really was stronger in terms of personality than father and I'm glad I got that from her," Bellatrix said, waving around half of her remaining bagel.

Draco laughed. Narcissa shot him a look that registered surprise.

"Aunt Bella we should see you more often."

"Work beckons," she said, finishing the last of her pastry. She stood up and gulped what remained of her tea. Then she walked out, but before exiting the paneled doors, she paused. She looked Narcissa in the eye as she leaned against the door, twirling her wand in one hand, a habit since was eleven years of age.

"I have half the mind to cast a spell of forgetfulness on you, Cissy," she breathed out. "If it were not for the fact that I adore you and Draco… Don't make the mistake of getting in the way. This plan must pull through. I trust I won't have problems with you."

Narcissa said nothing, staring at the fine china in front of her.

Draco smiled, to assure both parties."Don't joke around aunt Bella, you'll make mother break her tea cups."

Bellatrix laughed."I'm leaving in a bit, in broad daylight so no one will suspect much. After all, I don't look like I've broken out from Azakaban anymore, right?" And she laughed some more as she left, her laughter echoing down the halls.

Something broke and it resounded throughout the room. Draco looked down to see his mother's fine teacup broken into tiny pieces against the wall across them, thrown by Narcissa, who had tears streaming down her face in fury.

* * *

He hadn't slept, in truth. How could he? He planned it in his mind, now. He had left his mother inside the breakfast room, tears all dried up. She had said she would be fine, and would join him for lunch later on. So he walked inside the halls of their manor, his footsteps echoing, passing by large arched windows with little daylight coming in. The curtains were new, judging from the scent as he passed by. Walking up the fourth floor, he paused and saw a door he had not remembered seeing before. He knew the manor was enchanted and he had spent countless hours as a child going on adventures inside the manor alone, to discover new rooms and objects his family had long forgotten, kind of like Hogwarts, only smaller- with a smattering of old dark magic here and there.

He held the door knob and the door opened with a solid push. A sudden gust of wind and dust rushed out, leaving him coughing for a bit. He opened his eyes and adjusted to the darkness of the room. He flicked out his wand and said _'Lumos'_.

It was an ordinary room by most of the manor's standards. Just another one of their useless sitting rooms. He walked for a window, the only one the room had and flung the dusty curtains apart. Dust danced in the air and the room was flooded with light. The furniture looked ancient compared to the ones they kept using two floors below. It was probably a mini library, from the looks of it. Books still remained inside their cases; around seven dark colored book cases were lined all around the room. He wondered why he had never seen it before. Perhaps it was something like the Room of Requirement…

Scanning the books, he began taking some out and flipping them open. Some were old textbooks dating a hundred years back, textbooks required at Hogwarts. He smiled, imagining his grandfather, Abraxas probably using them. Returning the book, he spied on a smaller book, thinner than the rest, nestled in between _Potions: A Perfect Pointer_ and _The Most Comprehensive Wizarding Book of Wand Made Pastry Wonders. _He took it out and blew off some dust. It was bound in leather, the original color might have been black, but now it leaned more to ash grey. There was a small logo at the corner that gave the initials _A.L.M_. could it have been a notebook of his grandfather? He found the 'L' initial strange, thought. Perhaps it was another of those 'just for kinks' names.

He opened a page and found it empty. He flipped another page and found nothing. Holding the book sideways, he flipped through it faster, his thumb gliding against the parchment. He saw a flash of calligraphy and quickly searched for the page. There, in minute handwriting on the yellowish and musty paper, were words, a date and a few long, seemingly new looking rose petals stuck in between the parchments.

_Always remember. February 13, 1745 _

Then it was probably another ancestor of theirs, someone yielding enough to save an object of sentimentality. Rose petals, what the bloody hell…but his interest grew. He flicked his wand again towards a couch and dust flew into the air and out to a crack in the window. He sat down and scanned the notebook again. There was nothing else on the other pages. The room was cold and he flicked at the old fireplace.

"_Incendio_."

Flames began to kindle, growing larger by the second. It filled the room with delicious warmth. Contented, Draco began to flip through the book again. He flipped through the book slower this time, determined to find something. But he found nothing. Not another scribble, not another rose petal stuck between the parchments.

He sighed and placed the book inside his coat pocket and stood up, scanning the book titles again. He had spent at least an hour passing through every shelf until he came onto one rather large book that reminded him of his conversation with Hermione, a seventy year old edition of _Notable Hogwarts Students from 1700 to 1860 by Melinda Malden_. It was lodged into the rightmost corner of the last book case. Smiling, he flipped through the book and was pleased to find a lot of his ancestors' names in the index. The book was done by letter press; texts filled the pages with gothic typefaces.

Opening to a page with the Black name, he was not surprised to find a great grandfather's name (actually around five generations ago) through his maternal side. It was an ancestor of his own grandfather, who had died during 1979. There was an inked and rather accurate representation of the man's face, despite the parchment's withered state. The image kept pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes. It seemed he was a sallow and thin man, with a long beard. The name was placed directly below the man's portrait.

_Rolfe Hitchens Black (_1720-1818)_ Born to the prestigious Black Family, he graduated from Hogwarts with honors, immediately launching a successful career in the Ministry of Magic, founding the __Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the largest and most important of the Departments in the Ministry of Magic. He subsequently married Lenora Burke (of the Slytherin House) and had three children. _

_Rolfe Black was known to be an advocate of pure blood marriages, disdaining muggle-born wizards and witches, although it was assumed he never raised wands against them. One incident however, refutes this, when a cousin of Rolfe Black was accused of having illicit affairs with a wizard of muggle descent._

The next page contained more inked drawings of some family manor off the coast of England, a more or less short distance away from Azkaban and a younger version of Rolfe, probably drawn around his Hogwarts years. The text continued after the page with the images.

_On the eve of Walpurgis in 1745, Rolfe Black, along with his brother Cygnus Black (see page 230) and his cousins, Leonard Black and Pollux Lestrange (see page 428) were said to have gathered wands, ready to kill the muggle born wizard that had been courting Pollux's sister. A group of skilled wizards (called Aurors, starting in the 1900s) had also accompanied their Head of Staff. It has been said that the muggle born wizard had been practicing Unforgiveable curses in preparation for a battle with the Lestranges…_

Draco stopped reading and quickly flipped for the 428th page. There, a painted and colored (although faded) image of Pollux Lestrange was displayed. The man almost quite looked like his Uncle Rodolphus, with his sneering grin and disheveled hair. It had been painted a year before his death, as the caption below the painting stated.

_Pollux Black Lestrange (1717-1800) Born to the old family of the Lestranges and descended from French Pureblood families in Brittany, France, the Lestranges of Britain migrated from across the coast to settle in Plymouth during 1640. He graduated with nine O.W.L.S, an outstanding mark in __The Dark Arts__ and a special award for excellence as a Slytherin chaser in Quidditch. The son of a former Minister of Magic in France, he had been known to be fluent in French as well as Gaelic. He had two older brothers who chose to study in Durmstrang and a younger sister named __Areatha who had also studied at Hogwarts (see page 336). _

There were more photos of Pollux and his young family; he had married a second cousin of theirs, by the surname Yaxley. There was also a faded inked drawing of Pollux and his parents along with his siblings. The next sentence was related to Rolfe Black.

_In 1745, Pollux and three male cousins, along with their respective fathers, hunted down the muggle born wizard who had been seen with Areatha. They claimed the muggle born had used Unforgiveable curses on Areatha since their Hogwarts years. In the name of honor, they avenged his cursed young sister by using the Cruciatus curse against him, accidentally killing the wizard's mother in the process. By ruling of the court, Pollux and his companions were declared innocent…_

Draco paused. Injustice was evident to the Black Family survival, one way or another; they would always find a way out. It was almost like a gift from the gods. He searched for the page dedicated to Areatha and saw a charcoal drawn image of the youngest of the Lestrange siblings. He was startled to find that she looked nothing like her brother or her cousins. She had wavy hair and thin lips according to the sketch. She looked complacent compared to what the Blacks were characterized as, prejudiced and power hungry, with dark, brooding looks and imperial bearings. Her portrait kept looking sideways, left or right.

_Areatha Black Lestrange (1723-1746) The youngest sibling of Pollux, Regulus and Rabastan Lestrange, of the old Lestrange family from Brittany, France, she graduated from the House of Slytherin, with the second highest marks in the entire school that year. It has been largely credited that Areatha discovered the 'Preservae' charm during her sixth year, a charm that enabled one to keep various objects in good condition, even after years of misuse or keeping…_

Draco quickly opened the little notebook in his pocket that had contained the roses. Sure enough, these looked very new, although the date had been quite old. Realization dawned upon Draco that this was exactly what Hermione had been telling him about. His eyes quickly scanned the page to look for more information regarding the 'illicit' love that she and a muggle shared.

_Areatha excelled greatly in Charms and Potions. Her talent in Potions was evident when a male Hufflepuff student of the same year had drunk wrongly mixed Pepperup Potion as part of Potions class, which resulted in poisoning. Areatha quickly grabbed a bottle of her own concoction while inside the group, stuffing the potion of Pepperup down the boy's throat forcefully along with dried leaves from dittany and devil's claw. Witnesses say that, were it not for her quick thinking, the boy could have died in less than two minutes. An investigation ensued and the Pepperup Potion made by the boy had substantial amounts of bloodroot, an herb only available through the private storage of then Professor, Vindictus Viridian. There were suspects and it was generally assumed to be a prank gone near fatal, but the case was dismissed due to lack of evidence. Areatha was given a special award for her efforts. _

Draco wondered if talent in Potions really did run through his family line. He wasn't awful with Potions and he knew it. He scanned through the pages and found that Areatha only had 5 pages dedicated in her name. He continued reading on.

_After graduating, Areatha worked for the Ministry of Magic under the Department of Mysteries, when only after two years, she relinquished her position with concerns for her health. It has been said that she retreated to the little village of Godric's Hollow to convalesce. Here, the rumors of courtship between her and a muggle-born wizard (from the House of Gryffindor) rekindled, the rumors starting during their 4__th__ year in Hogwarts. _

_During 1744, Areatha was forcibly brought back to the family manor in Plymouth to quell rumors of the pureblood heiress mingling with that of common stock. On the eve of Walpurgis in 1745, Areatha had caught news of the impending harm her family wanted to cause the young wizard. Escaping and apparating to Godric's Hollow, she tried to warn the young man and his family to flee. Her blood relatives arrived later on and a battle ensued. It is unknown whether the young man was killed during the battle or after, with injuries already severe from the Cruciatus he was alleged to have suffered. The young man's mother, of muggle descent, was killed off first (it was said that the blast came from the young wizard). In response to the blast, the newcomers retaliated. The Lestranges and Blacks were acquitted due to insubstantial evidence. _

_On October 1745, Areatha married a French wizard of pureblood descent named Lucian Roseau Malfoy and moved back into the family manor. She died on November 31__st__, 1746. The causes were unspecified. It had been assumed she contracted a malady or had died in childbirth. _

Draco saw a painting on the last page dedicated to this unknown ancestor. She was in her wedding robes, sitting down on a chair, constantly looking out a window with her fingers playing on the fabric of her dress. She seemed distracted, miserable even, for an illustration. He sighed, frowning then. There was no page for the young man who had loved this distant grandmother of his. He wondered who he was. Just that he was in Gryffindor…He wondered what Hermione would have done. Then he laughed. It was quite simple, really. He was sure that the library on the second floor had an almanac dedicated to wizards and witches. He closed the book, and brought it along with him to the main library. He scanned for books with names similar to those he would find information about. He pulled out one entitled "_The Complete Almanac of English Wizards and Witches From 1545-1800. _An old book, but the dates should be there.

Sitting down once more and kindling a fire, he opened the book and scanned for 'deaths in 1745'. He saw the minute text listing down every name. There were around three hundred deaths during that year all over England. He pored over every name, opened pages that suggested such.

_Marcus Yaxley Lidell (1700-1746)_

_Sorted into: Ravenclaw_

_Known address: Surrey, South-East __England_

_Mother: Lucretia Yaxley_

_Father: Marcus Lidell, Sr._

_Siblings: 3_

_Worked for: Wales Dragon Keepers_

_Position: dragonologist_

_Death: Dragon flames_

God, what non-glorified deaths some of the people had. One witch died from the sudden shock of cold water, another unfortunate man died of a knife to the heart by a drunken muggle. He was about to give up when he came across the 278h name. His heart skipped a beat.

_Colin Thwaite Peverell (1723-1745)_

_Sorted into: Gryffindor_

_Known address: Godric's Hollow, West England_

_Mother: Melaine Peverell nee Granger-Thwaite (of muggle descent)_

_Father: Ignatius Peverell_

_Siblings: 1 sister_

_Worked for: Gringott's Wizarding Bank_

_Position: Treasure seeker_

_Death: Wizarding Skirmish on Walpurgis Eve_

Draco's eyes widened. Good god. This was the man. Hermione had only theorized the man was related to Godric Gryffindor but he really was! The family name proved it, only it came to cease after he died. He was the last Peverell, and by lore of 'Tales of Beedle the Bard', an assumed descendant of Gryffindor himself. And then he noticed one tiny detail. The name of the mother... There was a 'Granger' attached to the 'Thwaite'…His eyes widened again, heart throbbing at the comprehension that they were undeniably repeating times past, whether this Granger was related to Hermione herself. Except he was in Slytherin and she was in Gryffindor… he quickly shut the book.

The door creaked open and Draco saw his mother enter, changed into a dress of maroon. "Let's eat lunch, shall we?" she said simply.

Draco nodded and grabbed the book.

"A new book you fancy?" she surmised.

Draco nodded. "I've become interested in our genealogy."

Narcissa nodded. "I wish we could be remembered greatly," she said, eyeing the titles of the two hefty books he held in his hands.

"If we plan it right, we will be."

* * *

**A/N**: Info overload? ^_^ Till next chapter!


	14. It's Not Up To You

**It's Not Up To You**

* * *

It was a simple enough goodbye, he mused as he arrived by Floo network into a prefect's chamber. Dusting off ash, he walked out of the fireplace and it shrunk to its normal size once more. He eyed the grounds outside of Hogwarts and saw that it still looked the same as he had left it. It was nearing six in the evening and it was dark, lights from the torches inside the castle illuminated faint light outside. He walked out of the room and entered a corridor. The prefect's chamber was a floor above the library and he wondered if Hermione was there. Descending down to the second floor, the castle was quiet, as it was still a few days till the end of Christmas break.

He passed by the librarian, Irma Pince, carrying a mug of steaming hot chocolate. He greeted in respect and she nodded once, yawning after. The library was closed then, he assumed. He continued walking, speculating if Hermione was in the Great Hall since it usually closed at around nine in the evening. He walked down another flight of stairs and arrived at the Great Hall. The Great Hall's décor transformed the room into a rather cheery place, the centre was festooned with four pine trees in the respective colors of the four houses and the ceiling above swirled with snow. Lights dangled on the walls on wreaths of green and red. At the far end of the tables, he spotted Hermione sitting with Gryffindors from the lower years. He also saw Theodore Nott and some freshman from Slytherin he didn't recognize too well. Clearing his throat as he approached the Slytherin table, he caught sight of Hermione glancing at him for a short while. Then she returned to her animated banter with her fellow housemates and he sat down across Theodore Nott.

"Malfoy," Nott greeted in a nonchalant manner. "I see you're back. Slytherin has been dour without you."

Draco nodded. "Glad you like that fact I'm back, although your derision has been even more welcoming."

Nott laughed and continued to eat the last of his dinner. "Oh, Blaise left two days ago. His mother sent a howler, saying he hadn't done well with subjects and that he was going to get a louder one if he didn't return home to explain... Aren't you going to have a bite?"

"I'm not hungry."

"How about a bite of that?" Nott said, motioning for Hermione who had her back turned. She was dressed in a plain, body hugging turtle neck blouse and dark jeans with her legs crossed.

Draco stared at her back and felt something stir inside of him, he was becoming a romantic git, that's what was happening, but she really was attractive even while her back was turned. She was laughing over some silly joke and the corners of her eyes crinkled a bit as she displayed her perfect set of teeth. He turned to face Nott once more and rolled his eyes testily.

"Not my kind of dessert, either."

Nott studied him and smiled a sly smile. "I think I'll have some of that later."

Draco's jaw hardened but he said nothing. Did he know? Did he find out? Maybe they weren't careful enough, was that why he smiled in such a devious manner? The male Slytherin first year seated beside him looked at Hermione and nodded in agreement to Nott. Draco didn't react and he drank some apple cinnamon tea; to squelch the violent thoughts of beating up Theodore Nott in his mind. The first year excused himself and left, leaving Draco and Nott seated alone across each other.

Nott lowered his head and whispered, "I know what's going on, Draco."

Draco glared at him. How dare he? He fought again for self control. "And what the hell is going on?" Draco hissed back.

"Is the Dark Lord back?" Nott queried, his eyes narrowing.

Draco felt relief. So it was about the Master's return, after all. He raised his chin up and said, "What's it to you?"

"Father's letter arrived after you left for your manor. I went home as well with the pretense of my great grandmother arriving from Bulgaria, only arrived a day ahead of you. He told me to be aware, to support your-"

"Shut up," Draco interrupted. "That is enough. There is a place for this kind of conversation."

Theodore Nott sighed and nodded. He stood up."I'll see you in the Common Room, then."

Draco watched as he left the Great Hall, and he rubbed his eyes and pressed his palms against his eyelids. He wondered if he could sleep again tonight. There was the bustling sound of students standing up and he saw the Great Hall emptying out the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors leaving, still chatting noisily. Hermione left last, her hand lingered on the side of the large door and her face expressed concern. Draco gave a faint smile and Hermione left first. A minute later, Draco walked out and saw Hermione standing beside the edge of a staircase's stone gargoyle.

"I'll see you in an hour near the green house. The Herbology classroom," he quickly whispered. He walked down, heading for the Slytherin Dormitory.

Hermione nodded once and walked up for the Gryffindor room, wondering why Draco looked pale and unwell.

* * *

Draco saw Theodore Nott lounging indolently on a green leather couch as he entered the Common Room. The room was colder than usual, probably because of the frozen lake surrounding half of the underground room. Greenish hued lights lit up the room, lending an air of melancholy. In the centre of the room, across the door, was a thick glass partition that showed the murky lake. It was dark blue in color against the glass this time, but during spring; it became clear and showed aquatic life that lived in shallow depths. Draco used to enjoy sitting on the couch during his earlier years in Hogwarts because the scene calmed him so. Now, looking at the dark, nearly frozen water below the surface, he felt an inkling of what was going to happen. He had no concrete plan for himself, just a smattering of ideas to save some skin.

"Are we alone?" Draco asked.

Theodore gave a nod. "I sent everyone out. I told the younger years that some seventh year prefects were planning something for the ball, which I heard would be on February."

"You are aware that there are only two prefects present now in this house instead of six, right?"

Nott waved a hand nonchalantly. "They won't ask questions, trust me. They're lacking in wits and evil intentions, that's what. I believe we are the last generation to plot such measures."

Draco slid into a leather seat with armrests, directly across Nott. "What did you want to talk about?"

Nott sat up properly, his hands in front of him, clasped and icy-looking. "My father's urgent need to have me home… I know there have been new developments. I don't know what they are, even father doesn't know. But he only asked me that I support you in every endeavor, as our families have been age-old allies."

"Is that it?"

"I want to know what's going on, what the plan is."

Draco's nostrils flared a bit. "The bloody hell you'll know what it is. You do understand that whatever the plan is, even I do not know the depth of it. I wait for any order by any member that has conversed with the Dark Lord."

"Do you honestly think that I'll believe the arse wipe story you just told me?"

"You'll believe what I believe in."

Nott slammed his fist down the low dark table. Although it surprised Draco, he managed to look indifferent. Nott leaned on the table, his palms face down on the surface, angrily looking at Draco.

"I want in, Draco!"

Draco looked sideways, his right eyebrow rising up, a thin, furtive smile playing on his lips. "I've never seen you lose your temper before, Theed," he said, using Theodore's childhood nickname. "You were never the type to throw a tantrum."

"Bloody hell, Draco!" Nott said, his voice raising higher now. "You know I gave you my word a long time ago."

"We were too young. You can take it back."

"I made an oath to my grandfather, that I'd be your ally in Hogwarts, as well as outside of this school, an oath I take seriously."

"Just because he was saved by my grandfather years ago, it doesn't mean you have to follow suit."

Theodore Nott laughed hollowly. "Unlike other people, I am a man of my word."

"You're barely a man," Draco said, enjoying the fact that he was teasing Nott. But the color in Nott's eyes changed.

"I don't usually enjoy blackmail, Draco."

"What could you possibly-"

"You'll kill your little Mudblood plaything if you keep on with this," Nott interrupted in a low and dangerous voice.

Draco paused, realizing he really _did_ know. He felt himself grow cold, blood was leaving his hands and face, his heart pulsated wildly, but he couldn't feel the blood flowing through him. He couldn't imagine the harm this gangly pureblood in front of him would do to Hermione.

"Yes, I know about you and her," Nott said with relish, standing up with his arms folded.

"I can see that," Draco said frigidly. "Blackmailing might be something you'll be good at if you try it."

"Are you challenging me, Draco? I find her highly attractive. She'd make a good slave if someone else hasn't plucked her yet."

Draco felt himself seethe. His fist formed into a ball. Still he sat down in the same position he was in, but his eyes changed into a darker shade of grey, almost black. His mouth was set in a thin line.

Nott was studying Draco. He had always been so guarded. Such a strange friendship they had. They had known each other when they were only around five years of age; their families had met for a Walpurgis Eve fête, bringing along the younger generation. Their grandfathers had been the closest of friends from their Hogwarts years. Draco's grandfather, Abraxas, had saved Nott's grandfather from a Chimera while on an expedition to Greece during their younger days. Eternally grateful, he swore to uphold his friendship by having his family follow suit and linking the Malfoys and Notts closer. Nott had been fascinated by Draco as a young child. He was quiet around everyone, sulking into corners or shutting himself in the library. He rarely spoke to Theodore, not until he reached the age of nine.

"I remember," Nott began."We were in your family gardens. Our parents were in another area of the manor. We were talking about power. What kind we'd have, how dominant we'd be, once we'd get into Hogwarts. I remember being drawn to your longing for recognition and lust for supremacy. I had never conversed with any other child that way. We both knew what it was like to live for what was expected of us. You told me it would be an honor to serve the harbinger of authority. I understood you were talking about Lord Voldemort, but I believed in you, as well. And now, you sit here before me, unable to deny the fact that you were seen with the weak kind, the dirty kind. I expected better of you, Draco. I trust your family will feel the same way."

"Be done with it."

"You know I won't do it, Draco. I made a promise to you first. That blood pact in the garden sealed my allegiance to you."

Draco smiled knowingly."I recall that. Childhood silliness, really. We didn't have a grasp of magic yet. But that implicit spell cannot be broken, I don't know why."

It was done simple enough. Draco had taken a dagger and pricked the middle of his palm, along with Theodore's, no words were spoken, no promises voiced out. All in the head, that was what it was. Perhaps that was why they could never hate each other; perhaps it was why they never said anything negative (statements truthfully meant) against each other, despite being apprehensive of each others' abilities and intellect in secret.

"What do you plan to do, now?"

"I don't know," Draco admitted, his voice going quiet."She's not that bad once…" his voice trailed off.

Nott held up a palm. "Spare me the love stories. You do know what this means, right?"

"The consequences are enormous."

"Well, love hasn't damaged your cranium, yet," Nott said wryly. "I gave my word not to betray you. But others will."

"I know."

"Then stop it. To save your arse and hers, if you do really care for her."

"It's not that simple."

"Merlin's blood! You've fallen for her, haven't you?" Nott accused, and it was rightly so. "A Mudblood, Malfoy!" Theodore Nott felt overwhelmed and slumped on the couch behind him. His hands covered his face, laughing first and muttering again. "A Mudblood? This'll be the death of us…"

"It won't be," he said."I've planned it. I'm almost done using her. I haven't found any information from her about any weaknesses Potter may reveal."

Nott snorted and rolled his eyes."Don't lie badly, it's unbecoming of you."

Draco sat up straight. "Listen to me, there is something brewing afoot. The Dark Lord bides his time; perhaps my father is, too. The last I heard from him, he was in Estonia with my Uncle Rodolphus. The Dark Lord's location remains to be unknown. I, thru contact with Aunt Bellatrix, have hatched a plan concerning a second assault in Hogwarts, probably during the end of January or the start of February next year."

"You'll kill McGonagall?" Nott said, incredulous.

Draco shrugged. "I shall play it by ear. I have a month or so."

Nott laughed vacantly. "This is something immense. Will you do it alone?"

"Crabbe and Goyle are of no use to me, I think."

Nott smiled.

Draco smirked back sparsely, knowing he would need his old ally's help to pull through.

* * *

Hermione was sitting down on one of the chairs of the Herbology classroom, surrounded by a few blue flames she conjured for warmth. There was a single rusty, brass chandelier with five candles lit above her, the window panes were lined with frost and a mild snow blizzard flurried past outside. Notes were strewn all over the blackboard, the chalk already fading with time.

The door opened and Hermione saw Draco slip in quietly. He smiled, standing in front of the door. Draco made his way towards Hermione as she stood up.

"Hey," she said simply, smiling. Then her eyes narrowed with worry. "Are you alright?"

"What do you mean?"

"You look pale."

"It's cold, my gorgeous Hermione," he teased.

She smiled and pressed on. "Have you slept at all while tending to your mother?"

Draco nodded. "Just a bit," he said. "It's been…a bit of hell."

Hell was an understatement. His mind was in turmoil. What he had failed to do, he would do so again. This time, he would be obvious to everyone. Everyone would know. Harry Potter had accused him justly of betraying Dumbledore the night he was killed by Snape, but he pulled through that ordeal. He would do the same thing again and still get away. The time for being a coward was over.

"Are you sure you're alright?" she asked again laughing. "You're spacing out."

He forced himself to grin. "Listen, Hermione, I read something in my family library the other day. I came across something very intriguing. You might like it."

Hermione's eyes brightened. "You actually read?"

Draco pinched her nose. "The bloody hell I do. There is nothing else to do there at times." He reached for his coat pocket and pulled out a notebook. Then he reached for his leather satchel and pulled out two more books. He showed them to her and then put them back in, much to Hermione's chagrin.

"Would you like to transfer to a Filch-free zone?" he joked.

Hermione nodded, wondering what the books were about. Draco took her hand and led her out of the room and eventually out of the castle. It was past eleven in the evening, and they quietly made their way down to a garden patch and then around the lake aided by Draco's wand with the tip glowing, heading for the underground cavern Draco took her to a few days ago.

Settling down on the moss with candles blazing around them, Draco took out the notebook and opened to a page with the rose petals on it.

"Read the text," Draco prodded, moving a candle nearer to them.

"Always remember. February 13, 1745," Hermione read audibly. She looked up to Draco. "I don't understand…"

Draco patiently opened the book of _Notable Hogwarts Students from 1700 to 1860 by Melinda Malden._ He flipped for Areatha's page.

Hermione shrugged and read it, the text holding more or less no significance to her, until she reached the last few paragraphs. "_Here, the rumors of courtship between her and a muggle-born wizard (in the House of Gryffindor) rekindled, the rumors starting during their 4__th__ year in Hogwarts…"_

She looked up to Draco and her eyes registered surprise. "It's…? Is it?" She read again, absorbing the last few sentences. Her eyes widened. "This was the name that was blasted off of the book? Her name was Areatha Black Lestrange?"

"Apparently so."

"She was related to you? She's from your family! But what about the man from Gryffindor? Her lover?" she asked. "His name isn't here."

"I thought you'd go to the library by this time," he grinned. "But I was inspired by you, so I took this book out too." He tapped on the book cover of _The Complete Almanac of English Wizards and Witches From 1545-1800. _

"You found his name!" she gasped. "You searched for his year of death?"

He nodded and opened for the page with the man's name on it.

Hermione read it. "Colin Thwaite Peverell, Gryffindor, Godric's Hollow- death on Walpurgis Eve…" she stopped and absorbed the facts. She had read The Tales of Beedle the Bard once; Ron had shown it to her before…

"He must be a descendant of one of the Peverell brothers…" her voice trailed off again.

"You forgot one tiny detail."

Hermione looked at him questioningly. Draco pointed the tip of his wand to the mother's name on the book. Hermione's eyes widened again. It was pure shock. A Granger…a muggle woman…they nearly had the same family names!

"I don't know if you've directly descended from them, but-"

"We're just like them…" she murmured, unable to believe it. "Slytherin and Gryffindor…again."

"We're not ending like them," Draco said strongly.

Hermione's eyes were cast down. She then looked up to Draco, a look that would haunt him later on, as did any other memory pertaining to Hermione.

"You really think this is worth keeping?" she asked quietly, her cinnamon colored stare piercing into his slate hued eyes.

"I've never felt more serious for something I thought was so trivial before," he responded, wondering how he could keep up with everything that was being forcefully pushed towards him. He held out his hand to Hermione and pulled her close to him.

Embracing her tightly, he smelled the beguiling scent of Hermione and then he kissed her fully on the lips, her mouth eagerly mating with his own. His eyes opened for a second and saw Hermione's expression, full of love and acceptance for who he was. He closed his eyes once more, praying that the precious and beautiful moment would never end.

* * *

**A/N: **please do give me some review lovin'? Thanks!


	15. Harm of Will

**Harm of Will**

* * *

Harry was seated beside the window as the train for Hogwarts chugged its way through the winter wonderland scenery. They were around four hours away from school and Harry had been more or less quiet as Ron sat across him in a foul mood.

"Want some, mate?" Harry asked Ron, offering a piece of pumpkin pocket pie.

Ron shook his head disdainfully and looked to the right, to where the door was. Luna came in, wearing a ridiculously large version of her radish earrings.

"Ah, Ron," she said in her usual dreamy voice. "I had a funny dream about you."

Ron sat up straighter and looked at Luna. "What?" he asked suddenly interested.

"It was funny, really. You and Lavender Brown were walking into Hogwarts, not speaking with each other. And Harry pulled you away when Lavender tried to hex you with a Stinging Hex."

Harry snorted and Ron raised his hands up into the air in defeat.

"What the bloody hell is going on with the world, huh?" Ron bellowed angrily. "I break up with Hermione, and Lavender, thinking she'd be forever stuck with me, turns out to be as fickle minded as a-""

"Oh, you're no longer together?" Luna said dreamily, sitting beside Harry."Oh it happens, Ron. Manticores and Fire Crabs shouldn't breed, lest they want a Blast-Ended Skrewt."

Harry hid his smile with a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans. He saw Ron's eyes grow livid. But Harry couldn't help but grin to Luna's allusion. Ron saw Harry's smile and chucked a rolled up piece of paper at him.

"Hey!" Harry said." What the hell-"

"That's for being an arse in my moment of emotional pain!"

"I'd hate to say, 'I told you so'," Harry reasoned as Luna's head tilted to the right. "I do know this isn't a laughing matter. Hermione's been hurt, fooled. It won't be easy to gain her forgiveness again, let alone her friendship, least of all her love."

"Oh shut it," Ron said foully.

Harry then shrugged, almost annoyed at Ron. They had a pretty good Christmas, until a letter from Lavender arrived the following day through owl on the 26th. It was a pretty lengthy letter and Ron had shut himself up the whole afternoon in his room at the topmost of The Burrow. Harry tried to reason with him, but Ginny, sensing Ron's broken heart, had distracted Harry into a friendly game of snowy backyard Quidditch with Fred, George, Bill and Charlie who were home for the holidays. Fleur and Mrs. Weasley were busy in the kitchen, as Fleur was enthusiastically showing her future mother-in-law her favorite French desserts.

_While on a break from their enjoyably altered Quidditch game (due to the lack of players), Harry and Ginny sat beside each other as her older brothers pestered Molly and Fleur about in the kitchen, playfully stealing newly baked custard pies. _

"_Listen," Ginny began as she put a hand over Harry's hand. "It's best we leave Ron alone for now. He's confused and hurt."_

"_He did that to himself," Harry sighed, helpless. _

"_It's a good lesson, an experience he won't likely forget."_

"_Experience…what men label their mistakes," Harry said wryly. _

_Ginny playfully kissed his cheek. "Yes, so you don't have to have that experience, alright? I'm with you all the way, unless I find a better version of you," she joked. _

_Harry chuckled, knowing he could never find anyone else as perfect as the redhead sitting beside him. _

Luna took out a page of The Quibbler, the magazine her father published and owned. "See here?" she pointed to a horoscope section, indicating Ron's sign. "Your horoscope for the new year says that 'you will experience the bitter tang of love and foul creatures'."

Harry laughed outright and Ron shot him a reproaching look.

"Listen, Luna, I've been already experiencing the taste of bitterness since last semester-"

Luna's eyes glittered as if she were daydreaming. She waved one hand in the air. "Oh. But you do realize this is for this year? It'll be a fresh batch."

Harry laughed again. "Sorry, mate. Luna says the funniest things."

"Oh, but I meant every word," she said seriously.

Ron rolled his eyes and muttered words that they both could not hear. Daylight was fading fast. Luna excused herself to go back to her cabin, asking Harry if he wanted to read The Quibbler. Harry declined politely, Ron didn't bother saying goodbye. After a few minutes of silence, Harry felt lulled to sleep by the constant chugging of the train…

"_It's inside..." someone's rattling breath said. The hand was withered, like it had been submerged for days in some peat bog. It pointed to something Harry could not see. Wind was playing in his hair as he stood, witnessing the scene. It was nightmarish but fragile at the same time. _

"_It's been well planned, master!" a female voice said in excitement. _

"_You said you planned it well," his voice sounded threatening but quiet. _

"_Of course. You expected no less of us, of me."_

"_I gave them a chance, one more. No more if they fail."_

"_I'll kill them myself if it fails again!" she screeched. _

_He nodded, his eyes like slits narrowing further. The snake coiled around his feet, it was shedding skin, it grew bigger now, and it was more than fifteen feet in length. The green viper cocked its head towards Harry's direction and the man's eyes shot towards him._

_Harry reeled back in shock. He was looking at himself misshapen, appearing like Lord Voldemort! The Lord Voldemort that had Harry's scar stood up and brandished his wand, cackling with glee._

"_So we meet again, Harry Potter. But our meeting shall be short."_

_There was a rush of light, a bright green light and Harry shouted…_

"Harry! Harry!"

Someone was shaking him awake and he opened his eyes, Ron hovered over him with concerned eyes. He had slid halfway to the floor, his scar hurting painfully, like needles, a thousand of them, had pricked through his head.

"You alright mate?" Ron asked. "Your shouting woke me up; I thought we were being attacked by Dementors again or something."

Harry took a breath and nodded, sitting up, still feeling weak and nauseous. His hands shook and he felt clammy, despite it being very cold. It was dark outside this time, rendering Harry's feeling of vulnerability even more.

"You dreamed of him again, didn't you?"

Harry gulped and nodded again, straightening his glasses and placing a palm over his forehead, in some pitiful effort to ease himself.

"What did you see?"

Shakily, Harry told him what had happened, unaware that the nightmare would be set in tangible motion soon.

* * *

Two hours before the Hogwarts Express' arrival at Hogsmeade, Hermione and Draco met for the last time in what would be a long time inside the underground cave. They had walked together for cavern, careful not to look to suspicious after they individually left the halls of Hogwarts Castle.

"So…" Draco began."I guess we won't be seeing each other that often anymore."

"I'll still see you in class, in the hallways, in the Great Hall."

Draco grinned."I meant intimate-wise."

Hermione smiled. "Oh. That kind."

Draco held her hand and breathed in the cold air, it stung his nostrils but still, he felt alive, he had warmth holding his hand back. They were lying side by side on the thick moss, listening to the sound of something trickling inside the cave.

"I should fix that…" Draco mused, sitting up, trying to figure out where it was coming from. He frowned, annoyed by the constant dripping. Then he lay down again. "I'll fix it next year."

Hermione smile and moved closer to him. She fell asleep in a few minutes as Draco stroked her hair. He looked at her, marveling at how things could have changed so hastily, so immensely. He drew himself closer to her and she breathed calmly in her sleep. His eyes shifted for the ceiling. This was their hiding place, how long it would last- he had no idea. But he wanted it to last, until Hermione had tired of him. He hoped she wouldn't tire of him. He wondered how long this charade would last, how long until they would be discovered. He wanted to shout to the world that he had fallen for someone so wonderful, but at the same time, he didn't. He had his reservations. This was the thinnest line he had treaded, coupled with the incessant demands on fulfilling the 'family legacy'.

He fell asleep and dreamed.

_He gasped, whirled around, hearing the voice so familiar it tore his heart before he saw her in person. To be betrayed by the only he loved… how cruel could his fate be? She was eyeing him, like a woman eyes something she finds easy to play with, a mordant smile played on her lips, her eyes gleamed with his ache. _

"_You know, " she began, her icy voice echoing in his ears. "I almost did love you. Almost. But I guess the fairytale ends here…" and she kissed some man before her, some man she had loved better than she had loved him. She was passionate towards the man and passionate in hurting Draco. _

_The scene suddenly transformed. She was kissing him now, kissing him like she had kissed the man in the scene before. He felt cold, all of a sudden. A rush of water roared in his ears. He whirled around to see walls caving in, trapping them between the strength of water and the boulders. _

_He gasped, embracing her, protecting her from the pain, the bite of the freezing water, but she disappeared from his grasp. Instead he found her, floating away from him, like a ghost in the water, her hair dancing all around in a macabre display of her body pretending to be alive. He tried to reach for her, but the water forced air out of his lungs, he watched her fade away into the sinister waters…_

His eyes flung open and he gasped. Hermione awoke with a start.

"Draco?"

Draco stared at Hermione and exhaled deeply, unable to believe he had a nightmare, unable to believe he had _such_ a nightmare…

"What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Bad dream."

"How bad?"

"I-" he stopped and shook his head. "It was pretty graphic."

Hermione sat up."Would you like to tell me?"

Draco shook his head twice as he sat up, his heart was still pounding and his palms were damp. He looked at her. "Hermione I want you to promise me that you will never come here alone."

Hermione looked at him quizzically. "Sure…" she said, uncertain of the reason why. "But what does that have to do with your dream?"

"I- just a…precaution. Look, we'd better get back," he said standing up and offering his hand out to her. Hermione took it and Draco easily pulled her up. She nodded and pulled him back with her to the moss carpet, giggling.

"Hermione!" he laughed.

"I think we still have time," she naughtily joked in his ear.

Draco laughed again, kissing her. It was the pastime he knew so well, but she gave an entirely new significance to it. He didn't resist her teasing at all.

* * *

Harry waved at Hermione as they walked into the Great Hall. Hermione waved back and ran for Harry, embracing him tightly. Ginny walked up and she hugged Ginny too and Ginny exclaimed she had grown more mature looking.

"What does that mean?" Hermione laughed.

"You're looking good, looking better, that's what!" Ginny said.

Harry nodded, just as Ron came in the Hall. He stood still, unable to move now that Hermione was a few inches away from him. He looked at her; she had 'blossomed', no matter how feminine the expression sounded. She looked at him for a millisecond, unresponsive, and then turned to Ginny to continue their chitchat. Ginny led Hermione a few seats down, away from Harry and Ron. And Harry saw Ginny wink, signaling that they would be sitting apart for tonight. Harry nodded and sat down, the splendid food appearing before them.

Ron huffed and sat beside Harry."What the bloody hell…" he muttered as he grabbed piece of chicken with his fork.

"What?" Harry said, wanting to enjoy the food without side comments.

Neville came up to the table, and sat across Harry and Ron, Dean was sitting beside him. The foul mood Ron had was exchanged for friendly talk, as Neville and Dean discussed new hexes that they had learned. Neville showed the gang his swollen left ear; a hex conjured by his cousin as a prank.

"If the swelling doesn't go down, I think I may have to go to Madam Pomfrey," he said pleasantly.

"Does it hurt?" Ron asked.

Neville shook his head. "It just bothers me, you know. I can't lie sideways to sleep."

They laughed out loud and continued to eat. Draco walked past them, followed immediately by Pansy and Blaise.

"Oy!" Ron whispered to Harry."He's here."

Harry turned sideways to see Draco sit on a bench, surrounded by other Slytherin mates. He noted Draco's pallor and the lack of sleep evident in his eyes. He was quiet, surrounded by talkative Slytherin cohorts, lending a sense of surreal air to the Slytherin bad boy. Harry turned to face Ron again and shrugged, wondering if his nightmare had any true significance to Draco's life. He saw the faces clearly, saw the woman he had long hated for killing his godfather and saw how she swore to kill 'them' if things didn't go as planned. Harry had surmised she was talking about Draco and his father, as he had recalled Draco's failed task in sixth year. He also remembered casting a spell on Draco, a spell that almost killed him. He had not known Snape's invented curse could inflict such damage. Full of hatred, Harry had naturally considered killing Draco, but had since reconsidered, remembering Draco's eyes filled with panic, trembling at the fact that his mother's and father's lives were at stake and not just his own.

Still, he didn't like Draco, but felt a sense of empathy for him. The dream he had on the train was changing things for his stance on Draco, rather suddenly. But he forced himself to think again. There were two sides to every story, and he wanted to listen to his own, what he saw the night Dumbledore died and Draco's plot to make Hogwarts fall into the hands of the Death Eaters- that was what he wanted to believe in. It gave him a greater reason to hate the majority of the Slytherin lot and end things once and for all with Lord Voldemort.

Draco's eyes shifted to Harry's, his silvery eyes boring into Harry's bright green ones. He saw something there he had not seen before, an understanding of sorts. What the bloody hell was going on? Breaking off his gaze, he tried to concentrate on what Blaise was talking about. But he couldn't. His eyes then searched for Hermione's face in the sea of newly arrived students. He saw her with the youngest Weasley, talking seriously and away from Ron. He looked at Ron's face and saw it filled with frustration and hurt. He felt a sense of satisfaction, knowing that Ron was probably regretting breaking up with Hermione over that clingy Lavender Brown. Gossip had been circulating that Ron and Lavender had broken up over Christmas break, just hours after the train ride back to Hogwarts began. It reached his ears only a few minutes ago, courtesy of Pansy.

Draco stood up and excused himself after a quick dinner, saying he was tired. Hermione saw Draco exit the hall and wondered where he was going.

* * *

Draco was unconsciously playing with the pendant Hermione gave him as it hung around his neck. He was standing on one of the many ledges that surrounded the third floor, exposed to the biting cold. He rather welcomed it, wondering how long he could last in such a cold war. He smiled grimly, reminding himself that he was a son first and Hermione's significant other, second.

He made sure no one followed him and he quickly walked away, passing by the door of the Room of Requirement which was visible to his eyes. He walked past it; the door reminded him of his previous failures, and he had worked so hard for it…he shook his head and walked for the highest turret on the eighth floor. There were four doors leading to different rooms in the tower. He bent down and studied each door. Then he saw a door with tiny strange rune carvings on the bottom of it, a door highly unnoticeable to anyone who passed by. It was a simple enough looking door, students avoided it on the pretext that it was just another abandoned room filled with discarded furniture, as were the other rooms on that turret.

He read the text, knowing it wasn't the Ancient Runes he had learned about, but something far older, and he was hoping to translate them correctly. He was murmuring and mustering all the knowledge he had learned about runes and he could feel the pressure mounting.

_whitest of grain;  
it is whirled from the vault of heaven  
and is tossed about by gusts of wind  
and then it melts into water_

He stopped and wondered if it was a riddle or if he should say it aloud. He said the text aloud first, waving his wand. Nothing happened. Holding onto the door, he muttered a charm to open locked doors. Still nothing happened. He sat down on a ledge, staring at the door as the wind and snow blew mercilessly outside the stained glass window. He conjured a flame and brooded what to do next. Minutes ticked by, and then it became a full hour of being unable to figure out anything.

He kept repeating the text in his head. Then he stood up, hit by the awful simplicity of it. Of course it was a riddle! He had to give the answer, he knew it. He had read it once, that same instance where he found the script containing the password to the entrance of his cavern. He paced back and forth, repeating the words over and over again. Then he stopped, realizing the answer to the riddle. Standing in the middle of the door, with his wand out, he wrote out a single rune character on the surface of the door in answer to the riddle.

"Hail."

The door creaked at its hinges and he saw it crack open slowly. A blast of air blew in his face, something of dust and something of dark and old magic. He closed his eyes, waiting for the dust to abate. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes again and saw the room; it was circular in size, larger than what he expected. There were no windows as he scanned the room with his wand glowing brightly. It was pretty full, broken furniture and discarded bits and pieces from the older Hogwarts generations littered about. He stood still, shutting the door behind him, wondering what to do next.

Did the Dark Lord plans this year ahead of time? Did he create the room with full knowledge on the power of runes that were fabled to be the one of the favorite past times of Salazar Slytherin himself? He felt the task too mundane and tiresome to look for some object that was probably hidden under a ton of debris. Sighing, he flicked his wand for the objects to move, placing them neatly on top of each other if he could.

He was the cleaning man tonight, he mused sourly. He wondered if this was to punish him and his family for failing the Dark Lord during the previous year. Wait...this was to punish him, he knew it deep down. If things didn't go well, he would have greater reason to kill them off. After an hour of lifting things with the use of his wand, Draco slumped down on the floor, unable to believe he had found nothing that he had envisioned through his aunt Bellatrix's Occulumency.

He would come back tomorrow, he mused, armed with rest and a full stomach. Draco stood up, opened the door and walked out, sealing it with the rune he had written on the surface of the door.

Tucked away between deep debris, something nearly invisible rattled, sensing a Slytherin presence near it.

* * *

A/N: sorry for being away so long. I haven't abandoned this story. ^_^ please do stay with me till the ending. and do review?


	16. Overture

**Overture**

* * *

A heavy school load awaited all of the seventh years for the new semester. They barely had time to read through one book when they were assigned new ones with references for their N.E.W.T.s. Almost everyone in seventh year was beginning to suffer strange maladies like headaches, falling asleep in class and a few girls and even boys, crying. The pressure was on early in the year, with four vicious exams scheduled for the end of January and first week of February, the final exams were to be scheduled for late June.

Everyone's saving grace however, was the ball scheduled for the second week of February. Quietly, they were all looking forward to it, even the most cynical of students who thought that a Valentines ball spelled 'cheesy' and 'atrocious'.

The library was also exceptionally full that rainy and snowy afternoon, as Hermione balanced a couple (rather around seven) hardbound books in her arms. She was walking for her solitary table behind a large bookcase filled with books on Muggle Studies as she knew no one would bother with that subject for now. Potions class was going to be a killer, but with ample time, she knew she could ace it. Her books landed on the table with a thud and she breathed in deeply once and sat down the oak chair, candles surrounding her. Opening the first book, she had barely begun to write down her study notes when Harry approached her.

"Why don't you sit with us?" Harry asked her as her quill rested on the paper, forming a blot.

Hermione shook her head and narrowed her eyes to Ron's direction. There was a gap between books, enough for her to see his flaming red hair and freckles. Ron quickly dove under his book, his pale hands visible at the sides. She sighed.

"What is this, Harry? Some plot to make me-"

"I have no intention to harm your perfectly good studying mood. You just look so lonely here-"

"I like my moments of privacy."

She saw Harry's eyes looking disappointed. She put her palm over his hand that was resting on the table. "Harry, as much as I want to sit with you, not with Ron, mind you; I just can't. You know how hard it is for me to be around Ron right now."

Harry nodded, fully understanding but still wanting Hermione's presence back. It just wasn't the same without the three of them being together. He missed the days when they didn't face adolescence and love and just had grand adventures and barrels of laughs. He missed being carefree and younger all of a sudden. He couldn't blame his best friends falling in love with each other, but he had been wishing since they had broken up; wishing that they had never even been a couple. It complicated their terms of friendship. He was hoping to find a way to mend it, although he knew it would take time.

"Alright, Hermione. But I do miss your company and terribly. Ron's not a good study partner at all."

Hermione gave a short laugh. "I'm sure he isn't."

She gave out a parchment filled with writings and diagrams.

Harry looked at her quizzically. "What is this?"

"Notes," she replied. "You'll be needing those. You didn't take any yesterday. You were busy falling asleep in Transfiguration."

Harry laughed, thanked her and went on his way back to the table with a sullen looking Ron, who had wanted badly to have a copy of Hermione's well summarized pointers. Hermione saw Harry forcing Ron to read some page he deemed relevant according to her notes.

Then she shook her head, almost smiling at the thought of everything that had transpired in the last few seconds. Someone had put back the books on that shelf, filling the gap, shutting out her view of Harry and Ron. She sighed and continued to write.

Someone sat across her on another empty study area. She looked up to see that it was Theodore Nott from Slytherin. She concentrated writing again, only to realize a growing discomfort. Someone was staring at her. She shifted slightly, trying to regain her composure. But she felt even more uncomfortable now. She glared at Theodore Nott, who looked like he was lounging on a couch under the sun. He had an invasive look in his eyes and his mouth curled upwards, like the smile of someone who enjoyed watching prey suffer. He had one pointed incisor that showed on the right upper corner of his mouth.

"You do know it's impolite to stare," Hermione said hotly.

His smile grew bigger. "I know. But I can't help it. Am I the only one who's noticed you've changed into something rather appealing?"

Hermione didn't know what to say. She felt humiliated all of a sudden, like she was being studied for dissection. She felt her ears smolder.

"Don't you have anything better to do? I'm busy."

"I figured I could get to know you better, after all, I'm a prefect and you can boss me around."

"I can boss you some other time. Now excuse me."

Nott smiled idly. "That Weasley's a fool for dumping you."

Hermione's gaze drifted back to Nott. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Head Girl."

"If you have nothing relevant to say-"

"Oh, but I do. Tons of it. Say, Granger, what do you think of purebloods and Mudbloods together? Not just blood traitors and Mudbloods… just pureblooded wizards together with mudblood witches?"

Hermione went blank, her heart pounded, her blood dropped somewhere in a deep pit. She felt herself go pale. Did he know? Was he mocking her because he knew? Someone else came into view. She saw Draco enter, with a frigid countenance. He glared at Nott.

"I remember telling you that I wanted you to grab volume 8 of _Transfiguration through the Times_," he said in calm voice.

Nott stood up with a mocking bow. "Of course Draco, I nearly forgot. Someone tempted- err, distracted me."

He quickly grabbed a book to his left and left with a know-it-all smirk, brushing past Draco and purposefully hitting his shoulder.

Draco had a look of scorn written all over and he turned to face Hermione with a milder gaze. "Are you alright?"

She nodded, unable to believe that someone could be so rude, so insidious. "Does he-?"

Draco nodded once. "I've been dealing with it. It'll be fine," he said, quickly squeezing her hand for assurance and leaving her feeling colder and dismal that early afternoon.

* * *

Draco was in the Common Room many days later while everyone was having dinner when Pansy came in. She smiled blissfully as Draco sat with legs over a table and arms slightly crossed.

"Draco."

Draco didn't look at her. "Yes?"

"You didn't eat again."

"So?"

"I'm worried. What's going on?"

"Just because I'm not eating, it doesn't mean something peculiar is going on," Draco snapped, unable to gain patience for Pansy's query.

Pansy's eyes went sour, her mouth pursed, changing her sensual dark looks into something close to a changing harpy. Draco noticed this, stood up and was about to leave the Common Room when her hand shot out to catch on arm. Draco glared at Pansy. Pansy glared back but lost the will to argue with him.

She let go of his arm and crossed her arms. "Are you hiding something behind my back?"

"Hiding?" he laughed hollowly.

"Yes, hiding, concealing, masking. Some girl?"

"You don't have to show off your aptitude with the English language," he sighed, annoyed and at the same time humored.

"Who is she?"

"How many times do I have to tell you? We just dated, Pansy. We are not engaged or exclusive."

Pansy's eyes filled up with tears. "Do you know how hard it is to have your attention completely? You always, always push me back."

"You're pressing too hard on me, makes it hard to breathe," he said harshly. He walked away from her.

"When I find out who she is-"

"What makes you sure it's a she?" he laughed.

Pansy's gaze hardened. "I know you well enough, Draco Lucius Malfoy."

Draco stopped on the second rung of the staircase and faced Pansy again."And what pray tell, will you do?"

"I'll kill her," she said in one breath.

Draco shook his head and continued walking up. Pansy stood in the middle of the Common Room, seething and shaking. She looked at Draco's retreating figure, hating him suddenly with such ferocity that she regretted it after.

"Parkinson?" a voice interrupted her thoughts.

She spun around and saw a thin and pale dirty blonde haired boy. It was Theodore Nott. She glared at him.

"You alright?" he asked her almost pleasantly, except he had a continuous smirk in his eyes.

"What's it to you?"

He laughed. "Ah, has the Malfoy heir scorned you?"

Pansy put her chin high up in the air, and threw her dark hair behind her. "Nothing of the sort!"

Nott shrugged and began to climb the staircase to the male dormitory when Pansy called out his name. He turned around to see her eyes swimming with tears. Women. They were so predictable. He wondered if female Mudbloods were also like that…

"What?" he asked.

"Do you know if he has someone else?" she blurted out.

"Someone else?"

"Someone else."

He shook his head. "Not that I know of. Why?"

"I feel he's hiding things from me."

"Maybe you have no right to know."

Pansy looked offended.

Nott smiled. "Maybe it's about something else, Pansy. Have you ever thought of that?"

"Like?"

"Exams?" he sarcastically said, then he smiled again.

"Tell me if you know anything."

"And what do I get in return?"

Pansy frowned. "What do you want? To bed me?"

Nott laughed. "You're not my cup of tea, Parkinson."

"Well what the bloody hell do you want?"

"Just…follow what I say later on if I have an impossible request."

Pansy shrugged. "If you keep your word. When?"

"You'll know."

Pansy huffed and left the room. Nott walked into the dormitory that Draco shared with Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise. Draco was sitting on a chair in the corner. Nott sat on the opposite chair. He looked at Draco's eyes and saw them troubled.

"Any news?" he asked.

Draco shook his head. "It's...difficult."

"How hard?" he asked. "Do you need help?"

"No," Draco said wearily. "I do this alone."

Nott wondered the amount of difficulty. He didn't know Draco's task at all, didn't bother to ask. If this was a secret to the Dark Lord's bidding, so be it.

Draco leaned forward. "What do you know about runes?"

"They're ancient magic," Nott said quickly. "Difficult subject if you ask me. I was horrible with Ancient Runes. Not for me at all."

Draco nodded and leaned back with a contemplating look in his eyes.

"Ah, I passed by Pansy as I walked up."

"Did she still look like a monster?"

Nott laughed. "A what? Not really. She did look like a woman enraged, however." Nott's mood changed. "What do you plan to do with your Mudblood flame?"

Draco shrugged tiredly. "I don't…know. And don't' call her Mudblood- Muggle born is better."

"You can't keep this forever, man."

He nodded wearily "I know."

"How many days have you been working on-?"

"Almost two weeks," Draco replied."No progress."

"How many months do you have left?"

"Two weeks give or take."

"And then?"

"I either live horribly disfigured or expire."

"And your parents?"

Draco pressed two fingers against his eyelids. "Merlin, I don't know anymore. I haven't heard from father and I need my mother safe. She's alone there."

"Maybe I can help."

"I asked you what you knew."

"The runes?" Nott asked, disbelieving.

Draco nodded.

"What kind of magic is that?" Nott asked.

"Old."

"But not necessarily dark," Nott chimed in.

"Yes," Draco said. "But ancient magic stemmed from runes. Runes could mean anything to us now. Things have changed, understanding's changed for it. It could have been used for either good or evil purposes."

Nott sighed and leaned back, looking at a small circular window made out of thick glass. Water froze outside it; weak light was filtering through from the shallow surface of the lake.

"So you have two weeks left and nothing figured out," Nott said.

"And exams are coming up," Draco said wryly.

"Screw the bloody exams."

"That is just ghastly," Draco smiled a bit.

Nott grinned and then turned serious again. "And you've researched this endeavor?"

"It's not easy. I have. I've planned to raid the restricted section of the library tonight."

"By the aid of?"

"I don't know. Some spell. I could steal Potter's rumored invisibility cloak," he said bitterly, despite knowing that this was true. He had given Harry a bloody and broken nose for spying inside the Slytherin carriage last year, a kick on the nose for his father and for himself.

"Ah, I've heard of that. But really, how will you get past the enchantments?"

"I don't know. But I'm sure it'll be easy."

* * *

It had been rather easy. He had avoided Filch and Mrs. Norris, broken through the lock of the library that any advanced spell caster could have effortlessly done. Faint light came from torches from the other parts of the castle. It was pretty dim but still he could see. He walked to the far end of the library, his breath shallow and quiet. It was colder during the night inside the library, he thought. He could hear some of the books snoring. Walking past a charms section, a few books murmured.

"Oh do be quieter, boy," a book in a woman's voice drawled.

Draco stopped and decided to tread even more carefully. He saw a heavy chain spread across two book cases with a wooden sign that hung on the ceiling, saying: Restricted Section. He knew there was a charm to this and he cast a spell to unlock it. Silver light fizzed out, repelling his enchantment. He reached out to touch the chain and he recoiled from a sting. An angry red welt formed across his palm. He blew on his hand, angry at the hex. He muttered another charm and this time it worked. So much for idiocy, he thought.

The books in the restricted section were tied to heavy chains on the book case, in the event that someone would attempt to steal them. The books themselves were covered in various hexes, and only the librarian, Madam Pince could remove the books without suffering hexes. He scanned the titles with his wand lit at the tip and he smiled, seeing a hardbound book, heavier than what one would expect. The title of the book was in a more recent version of runes, by recent, around five hundred years old. Translated into English, it would have meant _The_ _Darker_ _Magick of our Forefathers_.

He wondered what spell was cast on it to protect it. Waving his wand, the book levitated in the air, still clinging to the dark chain that held it at the end. It was covered in mottling leather with a strange space in the center of the book's cover, something round would probably fit it. He wondered what it was for, but seeing that it had no need for a key, he didn't bother. Flicking his wand again, the pages flipped to reveal the first page with writings on it. Draco blinked, wondering if his wand lacked enough light. But the notes seemed to be scurrying around the book's pages. He blinked again and realized the runes were indeed moving constantly, like little ants in the form of strange angular shapes. Reaching a hand out, he cautiously touched the moving letters with the tip of a finger. The characters immediately stopped moving at the slight touch, jumbled all over the faded parchment.

Alright, he breathed. Now he didn't understand a thing on the document. He closed his eyes and touched the letters again. They didn't move anymore. He closed the book again, and opened it this time with his hand. The letters swarmed around once more. How the bloody hell did this work? He scanned more of the pages and he came across an illustration, it was crudely drawn but he could make out a little key of sorts and a few instructions that kept moving around as well. He tapped on the text once and the characters stopped moving again. He stumbled through the text, barely able to understand a thing. He found snippets of characters that made sense and then they suddenly did not.

There is a reason this book is in the restricted section, he mused, it gave one headaches and sore eyes. He sighed and tried to collect himself. What was a way to extract information? He just needed to know what he was looking for. There were so many possible things, but the Dark Lord had not told his Aunt what he had to look for at all. Draco scanned the pages once more and found another illustration. His eyes narrowed, seeing another drawing of a pendant. It did look familiar. He sulked, wondering how to break the chain tying the book to the cabinet. He tried a simple unlocking spell but it didn't work. He muttered another spell and it set the books on that shelf flying towards him with such ferocity he near fell to the floor. The books fluttered back to their respective places and Draco stood with an open mouth. Talk about violent books!

"Will you _please_ unlock yourself?" Draco groaned, exasperated.

Then, as if in bidding to his words, the book slid off of its chains. He almost laughed aloud. Was it really that simple to steal a book from the library? Or was he lucky enough to have muttered the magic words to one book among the many books that had their own enchantments? Whatever it was, Draco was glad to have that one task over. Now, the real blood bath could begin.

* * *

A/N: let's get the ball rolling guys. stay tuned for the next chapter! ^_^


	17. Sonnets and Unrealities

**Sonnets and Unrealities**

* * *

Hermione woke up with a start, having had the same bad dream for almost a week in a row. It always ended with her being covered in water, some tank, as she was trapped forever, screaming someone's name… It was probably her nerves, she had assumed. Exams were starting in a few days; it was the overwhelming studying habits she had _improved_ on. She looked at the grandfather clock near the door. It was barely six in the morning. She sighed, getting up quietly while her roommates stirred. There was weak light outside the thick glass windows and guided by that, she headed for the common bathroom as the lamps on the ceiling had long extinguished.

Candles on the chandelier above her flickered on as she took a quick hot shower. Wrapping her bathrobe around her, she dried herself and put on her school uniform along with a thick scarf. Balancing on the edge of her bed, she put her knee high black socks on, mindful of the cold floor. There was a tapping sound on the window. She saw a little school owl, one owned by Hogwarts since it had a little crest hanging over its feathery neck. The owl seemed a bit sleepy, had a letter attached to one leg. Reading the letter quickly, Hermione frowned, as it was written in runes. Sighing, she translated the runes on another piece of paper, knowing it was in Draco's elegant cursive handwriting. Then she nearly laughed aloud, realizing what he had written.

_I terribly miss your company but I won't admit it in plain English.  
_

Shaking her head while grinning madly, she stuffed the piece of paper inside her coat pocket and slowly made her way out of Gryffindor tower.

In another part of the castle, on the eighth floor of a turret; stood Draco. His hands were in his pockets and a black scarf hung loosely on his neck. The early morning was still, no wind blew and the lake showed signs of slowly and completely freezing over. He was beside the window again, taking furtive glances outside the glass and on the door that was in front of him, goading him for being too weak to find anything inside. He had found nothing from the book he stole two nights before from the library. He had read the book over and over again, tapping more than what-? A thousand times or more? The runes wouldn't make any sense. It gave him headaches and made him nauseated.

Draco hadn't slept well in a period of two weeks already, scribbling a short note to Hermione and imagining her laugh made him feel better , if not, less sleepy. He took a breath and went inside the room again, seeing the mess once more made him cringe. Every time he tried to arrange things to make the task easier, they ended up worse than before. The room had been charmed to stay messy or something like that. The more he tried to set things in order, the messier it became each time he came back. He held the heavy book against his abdomen for further support as he scanned the pages once more. He found the page with the inked drawing of a small chest; he assumed it would be no bigger than the width of both of his palms set together.

He imagined the box in his mind, imagining the exact shape and color of it, imagined that he was holding it now. After minutes of silence he put the book down on a broken chair near him. He surveyed the dusty room, the windows were boarded up with wood and his wand was still the only source of light.

"_Lumos Maxima."_

The room was engulfed in light once more and Draco had one finger curled on his lower lip, thinking what he should do next. He flicked against objects and they flew all over the place. He had read about the runes being used for burial chambers specifically to hide certain artifacts from thieves. The worldly treasures, they left behind for the common eye to see but the sources of power they kept well from the eyes that had magic. It was probably why the room was always in such disarray, to hide a certain something. He walked further into the room; the debris was like a sea, engulfing his figure. He was probably in the middle of the circular room now.

Draco paused and took a breath of the air, less musty this time, but still filtered with fine dust. He knew he had to move and he had to move fast. The clock was ticking too fast. He had less than a month to prepare for everything and he had barely begun to discover the secrets that lay within the room. He wasn't sure what he should look for. The book showed him many illustrations, some too faded to decipher. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack, except the haystack was messier and bewitched. He wondered what time it was, hoping he wouldn't be late for his first class of the day, a Transfigurations class by McGonagall. Just a few more minutes, he told himself, and then he'd just have to come back before or after supper time.

* * *

He came in late, ushering McGonagall into a momentary silence. Then her brows rose.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, so glad you could come and join us," she said crossly, tapping one forefinger on the board filled with writings. "Five points off of Slytherin should do the trick," the current Headmistress and _still_ Transfigurations professor declared.

He quickly made his way to his desk and saw Hermione two rows ahead on the opposite side seated with Neville Longbottom. Bright morning light filtered through the soaring windows that covered one whole area of the Transfiguration class room. He could see he was more than a bit late. Half of the board was already filled with chalk writings explaining how to transfigure a canary into a cat, minus the yellow shade. He paused as he sat, seeing a canary inside a small cage. He suddenly felt sick; it reminded him of the canary he had sent to its early death when he was trying to repair the Vanishing Cabinet.

"You must remember that the cat can take on any breed, try to picture one breed in your mind, lest you want your cat to look all jumbled up," the professor droned on. "Now take out the canary gently, hold it comfortably inside your hand- don't strangle it, Ms. Parksinson!- that's right. Gentle does it. Flick your wand and-"

"Draco," Blaise nudged him, seeing McGonagall's glare on their row.

Draco blinked and forced the bile down. He saw the canary chirping happily inside the cage, he quickly held it gently before it could fly. McGonagall's brow relaxed and she raised her wand once more.

"Alright. From the top. One, two, three, _Avis Felis_."

McGonagall's lips broke into a smile, seeing Hermione's canary transform into a fine looking black British longhair breed. It was chubby with intelligent looking eyes, meowing at McGonagall. It sat, behaved on Hermione's table. Some of the Gryffindors broke into a cheer and some Slytherins scowled.

Ron's jaw dropped and he shook his head, determined to try again. Harry followed suit. Harry was successful at the third try, turning his into a Russian blue breed, but his cat kept chirping at McGonagall. Ron was green with envy, as his canary grew tiny cat ears on its feathery head.

"Nearly there, Mr. Potter although the vocals may need to be chopped off a bit."

Harry smiled and tried to coach Ron who was savagely brandishing his wand on the poor canary. Ron was successful on his eleventh attempt, but his scrawny cat had a yellow tint to its fur and chirped louder than Harry's cat.

McGonagall visited every student's desk, supervising their spells. Lavender Brown shrieked, her canary sprung into a cat in midair and it prowled about quickly under the professor's table.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Miss Brown! It's a cat, not a griffin!" she shot out a spell to immobilize the cat, and Lavender scurried under the table to grab her stiff yet alive and bald feline. She glared at Ron as she passed by his table, and Lavender's canary turned cat hissed at Ron.

By the seventh try or so, most of the students had by then transfigured their birds into cats, with a few anomalies. For instance, Neville's canary began to purr constantly, much to McGonagall's annoyance. And Millicent Bulstrode turned her cat yellow with a larger bird's beak instead of the usual feline mouth.

McGonagall strode over to Draco and saw he had not attempted to change his canary. "Well Mr. Malfoy, no exceptions."

He looked into her eyes and nodded. "Yes, professor."

With a flick of his wand and the chanting of the spell, the canary immediately turned into a sleek and dark colored Siamese cat with prowling eyes. It purred at McGonagall and she nodded in appreciation.

"Good, Mr. Malfoy."

Blaise's eyes widened as did Pansy's. Theodore Nott smiled a small smile as he observed a row ahead of Draco. McGonagall made her way up to her desk to reserve the words written on the board. The words magically switched places, revealing _Felis Avis_, this time.

"To transfigure your cat- oh do grab your cat Mr. Longbottom!- you simply have to say the reversed charm. Simple as that. And one, two, three. _Felis Avis_."

At least majority of the class transformed their cats back into canaries successfully this time. Some flew out of open windows while others hopped about on the students' desks. Something fell on Pansy's hair, making her shriek.

"Did poop just fall on your head?" Parvati Patil giggled.

The classroom erupted into laughter, leaving a fuming Pansy Parkinson to clean her hair with the help of her wand till the end of class.

* * *

Theodore Nott nudged against Draco's arm as he passed by while the hallway was filled with students from all years, exiting classrooms and chattering loudly.

Draco glared at him for a moment. "What?"

"Prefect meeting during supper- seven-thirty," he said shortly and then he left.

A meeting during dinner time? Draco scoffed. That was the only time he had left for the day, from dinner onwards, he had to face another almost non-existent or highly invisible artifact! He scowled as he headed for the Slytherin Common Room. He had a thirty minute break before his next class, the last class of the morning. An hour long stay at the Divination room was a bit of hell on earth for him. He didn't enjoy the subject at all.

The Common Room was empty, but Draco chose to have a nap in his quarters. Thankfully, it was empty as well. He flopped on bed, his arms under his head. Staring at the dark ceiling, he began to fall asleep.

_He was running away from something, or someone…he could feel his heart being ripped out of his chest, his lungs were falling behind him. He saw her standing in the centre of the lake, she was shivering and crying and he saw blood drip on the pure and frozen surface of the lake. It came from her stomach! _

_He cried out her name and she shook her head. The surface broke, sending her down to the dark depths of the lake. He ran for her this time and the ice around him began to crack. He fell into the biting water and struggled to open his eyes, fighting off the cold. He saw her far from him, floating, dead. He screamed and no one could hear him…_

He gasped; bolting upright, touching the bed sheets to make sure it wasn't a dream. Burying his face in his palms, he tried to shake the vivid dream out of his mind. He almost didn't sleep because of it. He had nearly the same dream of the frozen lake, Hermione and someone chasing him. He always lost Hermione in the end. It bothered him and every time he dreamed of it, a fear grew bigger and bigger.

Sleeping was a bad idea, he thought glumly as he heaved himself off of bed. In the common room, he saw a little owl. Thinking it was from Hermione, he quickly untied the letter off of the owl's leg. The owl flew out of the room right after.

He stopped. It wasn't from Hermione. It was from a handwriting he didn't recognize. It was written on a thicker than usual parchment with tight and frenzied words scrawled on it. The words seemed to echo that of his Aunt's character.

_Draco,_

_Did you find it? Send word to your mother if you do. I shall be at the manor a week from now. I trust you're having difficulty, added to the mystery that even I do not know of. I have faith in you. Do not fail. _

She didn't sign it, of course. He wondered where his Aunt was as of the moment, wondered if she was with his father, in hiding once more. But he knew his aunt was reckless and dangerous, so she wouldn't truly hide. She couldn't live off a moment without hurting anyone, let alone kill. The letter was a reminder of his duty. He had not spoken to Hermione in more than two weeks now; the last time was when he fended off Nott in the library as Nott taunted Hermione.

Was this a steadying sign that things were not meant to be? That it was best that he keep away from Hermione? He threw the letter into a small fire that kindled at the fireplace in the corner of the Common Room. It burned after a minute and Draco left the room to walk up to Divination.

The class had only begun to settle and Draco quickly sat beside an empty seat opposite Theodore Nott. He was short of breath from the eight flights of staircases as were most of them. On the small round table in front of each pair were teacups and a pot of hot tea. Draco grimaced. He hated Trelawney's brew as much as he hated the stifling and coma inducing classroom. The smell of some strange incense rose high in the air, rendering him a bit dizzy.

Nott held a monogrammed handkerchief to his nose in a futile attempt to block off the strong perfume odor.

"Alright…" Trelawney began in a hazy voice. "Teacups again today; my dears. I feel that we shall see something important today. Someone's death, perhaps?"

Ron groaned and so did Harry. Hermione was smart enough to have opted for another class in replacement to Divination. She was taking up Muggle Studies and The Study of Ancient Runes in defiance to the 'guessing game' as she called Divination class. There were around thirty six of them in class that day and the room seemed to be oblivious to the frost outside.

"Drink up, drink up!" Trelawney prodded them.

Ron chugged his down quickly to avoid the bad taste of the brew. He made a face. Harry's lips pinched. The wide eyed professor made her way to them.

"Ah…" she began, urging Ron to take the cup Harry had drunk from. Arranging her large spectacles, she peered in closer and gasped dramatically. "A dark omen! The grim once more!"

Harry felt hot tempered all of a sudden, remembering his godfather. He stared at her and tried to count from one to ten. He was halfway to three when he spoke up.

"I happen to like grims," he said bitterly.

"Oh my dear boy, I understand that you have been a victim to death's advances many times-"

"My godfather could turn into one," he told her, feeling the heat rise to his scalp.

"Ah, but that is a dog-"

"And a fine one too!" he shot out an angry look at Draco who was broken from his stupor.

Draco was stony faced. The room became quieter, and the crystal chandelier chimed once from some open window. Trelawney shrugged the comment off and went to other tables as the classroom began to regain a few murmurs here and there and Trelawney continued reading their tea leaves and mentioning every aliment known to the Wizarding world. But Harry's mood had changed into a sour one. Ron saw it and patted his back twice.

"Don't fret on it, mate."

"Did you see Malfoy?" Harry muttered. "He didn't give a damn. His mad aunt kills off the only family I-"

"You still have Mum and the whole lot of us," Ron said cheerfully.

Harry was quiet for a moment and then he smiled a bit, remembering his favorite female redhead, Ginny. His forehead crease eased up and he took a breath, determined to pull through the rest of Divination.

The classroom emptied fast after an hour and Lavender and Parvati quickly said their goodbyes, for a long potions paper was due after lunch. Draco was the last one to leave as he did not want to converse with anyone at all, not even those from Slytherin and Trelawney adjusted her eyeglasses once more and looked his way.

"Ah, mister…Malfoy?"

Draco nodded and stood up without saying a word, turning his back on her. Then he heard a gasp. He spun around once more, shocked to see Trelawney go rigid and her eyes suddenly going vacant. Sibyll Trelawney sat on a wooden chair, her hands gripping on to the handles as if for dear life. Her mouth contorted and her pupils rose so high into her sockets that only the whites showed.

"Professor!" he gasped, not knowing what to do.

"_The Floor is wrought by Frost, immeasurable depth, take heed... __The Torch known to man by its pale, bright glow; it always burns where princes sit within… The ocean seems interminable to Man…and the waves of the water terrify all…She, the guiding star and the spherical light that comes from the darkness... the covenants are broken…the princes are to be where they are…" h_er voice sounded like a strangled man's._  
_

Draco was immobilized on the floor as Trelawney suddenly shook off of her trance, yawning and shaking her head. She sat upright and blinked rapidly around five times.

"Yes, boy?" she asked, staring at the pale Slytherin before him.

"Professor- you-"

"I dozed off? But class is over, unless you have queries?" she said with her fingers fluttering.

Was it possible the woman had no idea that she had just made a prophecy? Trelawney stood from her chair and placed her shawls to her desired position as Draco still stood in front of her, dumfounded by what she had said. Her bangles jingled happily like she hadn't predicted a ghastly episode of the future.

She noticed this and turned to face him once more. "Is there something you need to ask, young man?"

Draco shook his head, unable to believe he had heard a prophecy from someone he had always thought of as fake. He stepped back and walked out quickly, going down the staircase with such rapid speed, his thoughts in disarray as he tried to understand what she had just said. He couldn't very well memorize the prophecy, so he quickly took out a notebook and wrote the most important things he could remember. He made an odd, geeky appearance as he wrote sitting on a staircase on the third floor of the North Tower.

He stared at what he had remembered, what he had written. He had recalled most of it, her hollow and strained, spectral voice still etched in his mind, echoing words that cause his heart to pummel like a hammer to his ears. He stood up and walked down again, the notebook clutched tightly in one hand. No sooner had he placed his notebook inside his leather bag when a voice greeted him at the end of the second floor staircase.

"Where have you been?" Pansy asked him curiously.

"I had to ask Trelawney a few questions," he said as matter-of-fact. He took a breath to control his annoyance. Was she just going to keep following him around?

Pansy's eyebrows rose. "What the hell do you get out of that nutcase?"

"Exactly."

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading and thank you for your kind reviews! ^^


	18. Where is the Line?

**Where is the Line?**

* * *

The prefects had taken an early dinner in anticipation to the general meeting to be held after they had had their fill. Six prefects from every house came into a large classroom, which had been converted to a prefects' lounge the past year. Everyone sat comfortably on their chosen seats. Hermione stood in the centre along with Head Boy, Terry Boot, waiting for the prefects to settle down. She counted off four from Gryffindor, Harry, Ron, Ginny and another fifth year Gryffindor female were present. Ravenclaw had Padma Patil, Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner and Lisa Turpin. Hufflepuff included Hannah Abbot, Susan Bones, Wayne Hopkins and Ernie Macmillan. Slytherin included Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass, Graham Pritchard (fifth year) and…where was Draco? She felt her brows furrow a bit butt she paid no attention to it.

Nott was looking at her curiously to see if she would react to Draco's absence. Ron's gaze kept on shifting at various objects and people but never on Hermione. He was fidgety and Harry snapped at him to stop kicking his chair. Hermione paid no attention to this and only breathed in normally after seeing Draco enter the room quietly, taking a seat behind Theodore Nott. She took another breath and walked for a chalkboard, flicking the chalk once to write their suggestions. The chalk flew to the topmost part of the board, poised to write.

"Right, you do know why all of you are here. As per request by majority of the students, we've come up with a Valentine's Day Ball to be held the day after the last exams."

Some of the female prefects nodded excitedly and the rest of the population groaned. Hermione took another breath, hoping she wouldn't show her feeble enthusiasm to the prefects.

Terry stepped in. "Don't groan on us. I'm quite sure most of us will enjoy it as the night progresses."

"That's for sure," Michael Corner sniggered.

Ginny rolled her eyes, knowing full well what a snogger Corner was as she had dated him back in her fifth year. Harry saw this and had a teasing glimmer in his eye. Ginny shoved him playfully with her lips pouted.

"Anyway," Terry continued, "This is a definitive moment for our batch. I believe we are the first to hold such a ball on Valentine's. The Great Hall shall be transformed of course. Suggestions, anyone?"

Padma raised a hand. "It'll still be cold. How's about a winter themed Valentine's ball?"

"A what?" Terry shook his head, trying to digest her idea.

"You know, instead of red all over, try silver and white but the hearts and stuff should still be there, with hints of red and pink only?" Padma said in a smaller voice this time.

There was a murmur of agreement. Even Ginny seemed to agree and she was so finicky over matters like décor and clothing, even tattoos. Hermione stayed silent. The prefects would have the last say, of course and not her. The suggestions went on and on until they had agreed to the major parts of the ball.

"The drinks?" Nott suddenly said, the first Slytherin to break silence.

"Punch," Ernie immediately said.

Nott sniggered. "Do you want me to spike them up with-"

"Alcohol is out of the question," Terry told him.

"Butterbeer?" Hannah chimed in.

"We always have that," Ginny told her. "I suppose a bit of alcohol wouldn't hurt, this ball is only for those beyond fifth year anyway. We'll just have to ask Madam Rosmerta's help for that, right?"

Most of the male prefects clapped enthusiastically. Leave it to Ginny, Hermione mused as she smiled a bit. The chalk wrote the approved parts for the ball. The board was nearly filled, with various assignations, from food and drinks, to accepted formal wear and music (they were inclined to hire the Weird Sisters once more) to the set up of the Great Hall's tables and décor.

"Could we extend curfew?"

Terry nodded. "McGonagall's approved of this. Instead of the usual midnight, she's been kind enough for us to hold it until two in the morning."

Some prefects cheered or hooted.

"That's wonderful," Ron muttered inaudibly.

The grandfather clock struck loudly, signaling that it had turned eight in the evening. Terry looked at the clock then looked at Hermione, and finally to the prefects.

"I guess that's all then," Terry said. "Good luck to us all for the exams."

The prefects shuffled out, each animatedly talking to fellow housemates about a few other tweaks that could be done with the remaining time they had left, wondering if they could deliver a smashing party with such rigid examinations scheduled. Terry nodded ahead to Hermione who had chosen to stay to copy down the notes written on the board with the aid of a Quick-Quotes Quill (minus the exaggeration).

She heard someone shuffle inside the room.

Draco stood at the doorway, looking at her, suddenly missing her company terribly, so terribly he thought he'd break protocol by rushing to her and just giving her a full mouthed kiss.

She stared back at him, her wavy hair looking soft against the multitude of candles surrounding her. She didn't say anything; for fear that someone might hear them or pop in unexpectedly. But she longed to be closer to him, longed for that few steps to seal in. She hadn't spoken to him and thought it was torture. He was so close but she couldn't even lay a hand on his robes at all.

Draco cleared his throat and said, "Good night."

It was brief and simple, cordial- yet it was a stab at the heart for them both. Two words to sum up days of separation. It was a strange form of torture; only being away from people could they truly act normally. Hermione nodded once and Draco spun around, his footsteps echoing in the halls until it altogether disappeared.

She stayed inside the room for a few more minutes and had begun to gather her things when someone else entered the room. She looked up and saw the one person she didn't expect. Almost immediately, memories came flooding through her, memories filled with hurt and resentment. She didn't say anything; her hands had gone rather cold.

"Hermione," Ron began.

"Yes?" she said near callously, spinning around to resume packing the notebooks and quills inside her messenger bag.

"We need to talk."

"Talk," Hermione repeated, still not looking at him. "That's rather funny."

"Look at me!" he said, nearly losing his temper.

Hermione faced him, her arms folded in front of her, her look impassive. "You're the one to boss me around, you of all traitors."

"I didn't betray you. At least I didn't mean to." "That's rich!" she scoffed. Ron looked offended. "At least that part of me has wealth, eh?" "If you have nothing else to say-"

"I'm sorry!"

Hermione stopped in place. Sorry. She had only heard of this apology tonight. He hadn't apologized last year, none at all. Perhaps it was because she didn't give him the chance, or perhaps he was too ashamed to express regret in front of the whole Hogwarts population. But he had said 'sorry'.

"Hermione," Ron began. "We kind of grew apart over the last school year. And- Lavender began sending me her regards once more over the summer."

"But we were still together..." she said, not meaning for her voice to tremble.

"I've racked my brains that summer, figuring out who I wanted-"

"Like you own us, like you own me-"

"Want, need, they're the same. But I swear to you, I wanted to die, choosing something that was crucial to my emotional-"

"Like you're the only bloody one who's got emotions!" Hermione spat out, feeling the hatred simmer once more. She had thought she had forgotten about this, when Draco had been around. Ron was some distant thing of the past. Draco would make her feel better. How she needed him now!

"I'm sorry. I regret what I've done!" he finally said, sounding overwhelmed. He threw his hands up in the air and leaned against a table. "Regret, Hermione. That's how I feel right now. I'm sure you must've heard that me and Lavender-"

"Lavender and I," Hermione corrected testily.

"Lavender and I," Ron repeated, "That she and I had broken up over Christmas break."

"And what does that have to do with me?"

"Everything. I want you back," Ron said quickly, his eyes staring at the floor.

Hermione paused her breathing. He wanted her back? It was that simple. Want. Yes, men could want, women could want. Want love, want company and want forgiveness. But did she want him back? She wanted something else. Something better...she shook her head, trying to recall the instances that she had felt she loved him, that they had pure fun together. She shut her eyes, straining her memory. Yes, there were a few moments that were worth giving up her life for. "Are you daft? Do you think it's that easy to waltz back into my life when you walked out on it last year?"

"It wasn't easy for me either. I wasn't really sure, really a hundred percent sure if I was making the right decision."

"As usual."

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" he said near exasperation, nostrils flaring. Reasoning had always proved a challenge with Hermione as a girlfriend. Arguments were different with Lavender. Lavender was irrational and reckless, with Hermione- there was no way out. He knew he was almost always wrong every time they got into fights.

Hermione's eyes changed into a steelier tone. Her mouth drew into a thin line and her back stiffened. She closed her eyes, squeezing them tight, trying to control herself before she could say something damaging.

"Was everything that horrible with me?" Ron asked her quietly.

Hermione opened her eyes and leaned against the wall. "Not everything, Ron."

"We've had some good times."

"Some."

"You don't love me anymore, do you?" Ron asked, plucking the courage to do so. His face had gone redder than his hair. He took a seat, facing Hermione with his hands clasped in front as he looked at her.

Hermione sighed, suddenly not knowing what to say. This was still her friend, no matter what they had gone through. The strength of their friendship bagged her down. She felt old and dying all of a sudden. Was it really that difficult to say no to love and yes to friendship? They had started out as friends, after all.

"Ron," Hermione began slowly, in a softer tone, "You don't call on the past to make the present and future better. I learned it the hard way. I have to move on; you have to do that too."

"I still love you," Ron mumbled.

It caught Hermione off guard. For Ron to say such a damnable thing! Her heart pounded and suddenly warmer recollections came rushing through her…Ron poisoned with mead on his birthday…she had stayed with him till he was back to good health…Ron batting out against who ever called her Mudblood…Ron saying her name in his sleep…Ron rescuing her from every adventure they had together with Harry…Ron…Hermione stopped. That was the past. He had hurt her too and she had paid the piper. She said nothing. Instead she picked up her bag and walked past him. Ron's hand shot out to grab her arm. He stood, towering over her. He let go of her arm.

"Hermione," Ron sighed. "How easy is it for you to let go of all that's happened to us?"

Hermione flinched. "Good night, Ron."

And she left Ron standing alone in that dark and cold classroom, wondering why she had gotten quickly over him and wondering why she didn't bother to cry at that moment.

* * *

Hermione walked up to the staircase leading to Gryffindor tower in tears. She had done her best not to cry in front of him and had effectively done so. It had not been easy. She was crying quietly, her tears dropping in successive motion down to her face and on the stone floor. She took a pause, two more steps before the landing, deciding not to enter the Common Room.

She had to get away from the Gryffindor tower tonight. Someone might see, someone might ask. So she walked another way, on another staircase leading to the right. Some of the portraits coughed, seeing her face in tears. They turned their backs in respect to the Head Girl. Hermione did not care where her feet were leading her. She was thinking of what Ron had said. He said he stilled loved her? He still bloody loved her! Suddenly her whole body was shivering, some uncontrollable reaction to the weight of her pain. She hugged herself as she walked, thinking it was the cold, assuming it was the cold. She looked like a sad figure walking alone on one long corridor, not realizing she was walking up to the eighth floor.

She stopped, realizing she had never strayed to this part of the castle during night. She had passed by this area a few times, but never gave it much thought. Standing on one stone ledge with a single torch lit behind her, she saw four doors surrounding the spiral staircase leading to the turret. Tentatively she took a step forward, hoping she wouldn't break any school rules. She couldn't remember this part being off limits to anyone. There were a few glass windows surrounding the staircase, some with cracked parts, rendering Hermione to feel colder than ever. Now standing in the centre of the turret, she saw the four doors on eye level, all ordinary looking doors fashioned from some old and sturdy dark wood. She had known this part was for discarded furniture and other school items deemed unusable. She wondered all of a sudden if she could convert one into a private study room.

She chose one door and opened it. A gust of biting wind rushed past her, a broken window the cause of it. She closed the door quickly, feeling her face go a bit numb with the sudden cold. Facing another door, she chose one beside the door she had first opened. It was a dark empty room filled with cobwebs on the ceiling. The windows were shut with boards. This could make a good escape room, she thought. She closed the door and proceeded for the next one. It had a broken window and frost was forming inside. She closed it, the cold sinking into her skin.

The last door looked the same as the first three. Reaching for the handle, she found it was locked. She pulled and pushed. Then she resorted to a charm. Still, it didn't budge. She frowned. How could a door not open with the spell she gave? It was a standard door opener, unless someone made a stronger spell to ward off unwanted students. Relishing a little mystery, Hermione became determined to open the last door. She tiptoed to see if there were hidden enchantments on the upper corners of the door. There were none. Then she bent down and traced her fingers lightly against the door, her wand glowing brightly. She saw tiny writings on the bottom of the door, runes to be exact. She could write and read them if her life depended on it. Smiling, she read the long and nearly unreadable text in a whisper.

_whitest of grain;  
it is whirled from the vault of heaven  
and is tossed about by gusts of wind  
and then it melts into water_

She stopped and wondered what this was. She was sure she had read this somewhere. It was a riddle of sorts. But a trip to the library would prove too risky and tiring tonight. She stood up and wondered if the process of getting in was the same as the cave Draco showed her. Standing up, she was about to raise her wand when she heard the sound of shoes shuffling.

Draco stood his eyes wide open with shock. Who the hell-? Hermione! His jaw hardened and his eyes narrowed. Hermione spun around, her face looking perplexed why Draco suddenly appeared here of all places. Draco's look softened.

"Hermione," he said, rushing for her and holding her shoulders gently. "What are you doing here?"

Hermione blinked, suddenly overwhelmed that she had been alone, absorbed in her little distraction and that Draco came to what? Walk around here?

"I- I was walking around."

"Alone?" he frowned. "Why are your eyes red? Who upset you?"

She shook her head. "Something got into my eye. I wanted to clear my mind off of things, exams are getting pushy-" she laughed.

"Here?" he asked her, his brows rose.

"I didn't really notice where I was walking. I was so absorbed. Then I found these rooms and figured if one of them was empty, I could turn it into a study room…" she admitted, her voice trailing off.

Draco stared at her for a second and then he laughed. "Figures. You're thinking too much!"

Hermione grinned. "Sorry, you know how it is."

Suddenly, Draco's mood shifted and he embraced her tightly. "I've missed you."

Hermione was touched and she closed her eyes, enjoying Draco's display of affection. She embraced him back, happy to finally get an intimate moment with him. Then she stepped back with a cheerful glint in her eyes.

"Why are you here?" she laughed.

Draco smiled. "You're not the only one with a lot of things in their mind."

"That's company."

"But seriously, why did you cry?"

"Stress," she replied promptly, unable to protest that she didn't cry at all.

Draco gave a small grin. "Really now, you actually get stressed over studying? That's unheard of." And he laughed. "But I would have been reduced to tears given this pressure even if I had only half of your brain. Why don't we get out of here? This place is giving me the creeps…" he suggested.

Hermione laughed a bit. "You're actually scared of this place?"

"Actually, I'm more concerned for your wellbeing. The drafts are pretty strong here."

"It's the broken windows-"

"You've been inside the rooms?" he managed to sound normal.

"Just the three, the last one's locked," she pointed out to the door that had remained unopened.

Draco eyed the door and turned to face her, determined to show disinterest. "There's a reason some have broken windows or that some are locked. It's best we leave, Filch might catch us here and accuse us of abusing our 'powers'."

Hermione nodded, taking Draco's hand. With a relieved look that Hermione didn't see, they walked down and out of the turret. That was pretty close, Draco thought, determined to never let anyone near the tower ever again.

* * *

A/N: Till next! ^_^


	19. Scatterheart

**Scatterheart**

* * *

Draco and Hermione were walking down the fifth floor when Draco saw Theodore Nott coming their way. Draco's eyes narrowed and his mind was readying for defenses, anything he had to say just to prevent Nott's smarty aleck comments from hitting home.

Hermione quickly let go of Draco's hand and set herself a few inches away.

Theodore Nott laughed. "Please! Like I don't know about you two."

Draco's eyes frosted over. "Did you really have to mention that, Nott?"

"Sorry," Nott mockingly whispered. "But the two of you walking in this lonely corridor could make any passerby assume."

Draco sighed, knowing Nott was right. He had to be careful. Extra careful. He eyed Hermione who had a self-protective bearing in her eyes. He held her hand and squeezed it once, the best form of assurance he could give as of the moment. Hermione looked at him, her lips trembling slightly.

"We need to talk," Nott told Draco.

"Can't that wait?"

"No, Pansy might go bonkers," Nott said; his upper lip curling.

Draco shot him a glare. "I'll see you later."

Theodore Nott looked at Hermione intently and Draco gently led Hermione away from Nott, heading for the corridor that led to a staircase for the Gryffindor Tower. Nott looked at the two figures walking away, wondering how his words would affect Hermione.

He wondered how far he could play his charade. It wasn't easy to actually like a Mudblood, let alone a Mudblood that his closest ally liked (or perhaps loved) as well. He had gone through his head over and over again, trying to reason why he could like someone like the Mudblood. He could apparently find no fault about her, except that her blood was filthy…he sighed and leaned against a wall, listening to their footsteps fade away into the darkness of the hall.

He recalled the day he had realized he liked Hermione Granger, in the library of all places. Draco had been there, quick to defend her from his eccentric eyes and statements. He had seen Hermione go pale and he hadn't seen anything as beautiful as that sight. There was a poet's wistful look in her eyes and hands; she probably didn't realize she was attractive at all, except for Draco's insistence, he supposed.

He had seen and bedded numerous good looking witches of his time; from his little scandals in France to Italy…he didn't expect to actually harbor feelings for a Muggle born Head Girl! He wondered if he could steal Hermione away from Draco, coax her into thinking he was also capable of- what the bloody hell was he thinking! He was pureblooded and fighting for it, for Merlin's sake! He shook his head and took a deep breath, troubled by the way this emotion came into light. Not here, not now! They were working for the Dark Lord's return; working to keep their race untainted and working to reclaim the glory of their pedigree.

He remembered Pansy Parkinson all of a sudden, remembered her words, begging him to help her with Draco's affections. Ha! Like there was anything he could do for Pansy. She was a part of Draco's past now. He had not specified what he wanted in return for information, but he had a feeling he would know soon.

His thoughts returned to Hermione quickly, despite forcing it down. He thought about the countless instances he could have made his move, only to defer to pride and now, to Draco. He wondered why he had allowed this to happen. Control was something he had shown skill for. But this emotion…it was proving to be a straining task. He knew that Draco had initially felt that way, a denial to falling for a Muggleborn. But Draco had accepted it and his love was well returned, while he, Theodore Nott was lurking in corners, determined to see Draco succeed, determined to keep his loyalty. He had seen Hermione's eyes, how she was in love with the Slytherin prince of his generation. And he suddenly felt a pang of hurt. He shook his head again, whistling as he walked back to the Slytherin Dormitory, hoping he could get rid of the feeling quick.

Draco knew it was Ron, Ron was the reason she cried that night. It took a superhuman amount of self control not to bash the redhead upon the first day of the exams. If he could just pull through, he told himself. If he could just survive the hell of a week bestowed on him... He had one more week to go, and he had nearly figured things out.

It took nearly a month of sleepless nights, and everyone he knew remarked on it, even Hermione, who had managed to discreetly sneak in a note to his leather messenger bag. He had become paler; if that was even possible, and his eye sockets were surrounded by tell tale signs of exhaustion.

Draco discerned he was looking now for one key, one object that interconnected the book and that chest he had yet to find. If he could just find that bloody key, everything would have been revealed and he would now concentrate his energies to guarantee Hermione's safety and that of his mother's. The question was where to find the key. He knew it was round and that was just about it. He knew nothing of the color, if it had any writings, if it was possibly some heirloom…he blinked and tried to concentrate on question number one hundred and four of the Potions exam by a pleased looking Slughorn who had come out from retirement just after Dumbledore's death once more.

Up ahead, Hermione was breezing through her examination paper, with only two more questions to answer. She read the hundred and forty-eighth question. It read: _In the dark ages and until the early 1800s, it was said that surviving this plant poisoning was considered a proof of innocence._

Hermione shrugged. That was pretty easy. And in her neat handwriting, she wrote down: _Calabar Bean. _

The last question made Hermione think a bit. Perhaps Professor Slughorn had intended for it to be the most difficult in his examination paper.

_150.) Atropa belladonna__ is native to central and southern Europe and parts of Asia. Its name in Italian means beautiful women. Atropa comes from the name Atropos, the Fate who cuts the thread of life. Other names for it include: (__write four other names__)_

Hermione closed her eyes; she had forgotten to read this part. She hoped she was right though. Slower this time and perhaps neater, she wrote: _Death's Herb, Deadly Nightshade, Devils' cherries, Sorcerer's berries. _

She stood up quietly and placed the paper, the first on Slughorn's desk. Slughorn beamed at her and waved his hand to acknowledge she could now leave class early. Hermione nodded and gathered her bag and quill, smiling supportively at Harry as she went out. In the corner of her eye, she saw Draco answering the last parchment of the exam.

She stood outside the door for a moment, watching Draco's back, as if to calm herself. Then she walked away from the small corridor and into some bright winter sunlight. She met Ginny looking harassed in the hallway.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked her.

Ginny shook her head with a grin. "You're bloody kidding me. You do know how I look like right now. I swear, that Trelawney is driving me bonkers! An exam on finding the most ominous thing in your teacup?"

Hermione laughed, telling Ginny she could have another subject instead of the guessing game Divination was, suggesting Runes and Arithmancy.

"Runes and Arithmancy? I'm not you!" Ginny said. "Guessing my bloody death could probably be more fun."

Hermione laughed again. "Really, Gin. You have a rather pleasant way of comparing things."

Ginny waved goodbye, saying she had to harass a schoolmate into pretending that she was as good in Divination as Trelawney thought she was.

Hermione walked up the staircase heading for the Great Hall when she spotted Terry Boot.

"Oy, Hermione!" he called, beckoning her to approach him.

"What's up?" she asked.

"I've just been to Headmistress McGonagall's office. The ideas we've put up have been approved. We have around three days to set up the embellishments for the ball."

Hermione nodded. "Hearts. I think I'm going to throw up."

Terry laughed. "You just might like your hearts soon."

Hermione's eyebrow shot up. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just saying," Terry said, waving goodbye with a smile.

She wondered if he had heard the conversation she had with Ron the night before. She had seen the way Ron sulked during breakfast earlier that day. He wasn't speaking to Harry and Harry contented himself to Neville's stories about uncles and their strange pets, especially one uncle who had tried to train a thestral and ended up missing one thumb. Hermione sighed, wondering where she should go. She guessed most of her Gryffindor schoolmates would finish the examination in around fifteen more minutes. The library seemed like a good choice. Then a bit of butterbeer wouldn't hurt. The next examinations were still around one thirty in the afternoon. It was barely ten thirty and she had more or less memorized the book she had read for the next test, Arithmancy for her and Divination for the rest. She considered herself rather lucky to have skipped that horrid class. Hermione was walking down the hallway for the Great Hall when someone shouted her name. Harry came running and had an arm around her shoulder.

"Bloody hell, that exam!" he gasped.

"Hello, Harry."

"How'd you do? I mean- did you get all of it right? All of it?"

"I wasn't sure about the last part-"

"I wasn't sure about most," Harry laughed and so did Hermione. He took his arm off of her shoulder and arranged the books bulging about in his bag. "Who'll be your date?" he asked her.

"Date? Like for the ball?"

"Is there any other event?" Harry smiled.

"No," Hermione protested. "I'm not sure if I-"

"Head Girl not going means bad influence to peers."

"Harry James Potter!" Hermione flustered.

"Relax, 'Mione, I'm just teasing you, obviously," Harry rolled his eyes and eyed Hermione who had squeezed her lips. He broke into a smile. "Look, I want you to enjoy that night. It's the first time you'll get to… uh…let loose."

"I have… uh- let loose."

Harry raised a brow "Really now?"

"I sleep, I…have trips to Hogsmeade-"

"With other prefects," Harry interrupted. "I meant just completely have fun. You've been stressed out for much of the last year and this year."

"Look who's talking," Hermione laughed. "You weren't having the time of your life either."

"I'm being hunted down, it's a different story."

"I don't like that," Hermione grinned. "How's about some butterbeer at-"

"Harry!" Ron's voice called out. "What an arse that exam was-! Oh, you're with Hermione…" his voice faltered.

Hermione froze, standing in between Ron and Harry. Harry looked at Hermione and then at Ron, he looked back and forth a couple of times more and the awkwardness rose over.

"I- I'll see you later, Harry," Hermione spun around and left the area, leaving Ron and Harry standing, unable to say anything.

* * *

Ron had said her name. In front of Harry too. Was this a sign? She shook her head and wrapped her thick grey coat around her tighter. She was walking alone for Hogsmeade. It was a good fifteen minute walk away and with the snow, perhaps around five to ten minutes longer. She felt the cold seep into her nostrils and she wrapped her scarf around her nose and mouth, wondering why she froze in front of Ron when she could just have pretended they were on 'okay' terms. She couldn't just pretend though, not everything was okay. What Ron had said made her think, got her just a tad bit confused…nearing Hogsmeade she was about to take another step when someone stumbled into her, another witch, all covered up in black robes and a regal looking floral black hat.

Hermione fell to the snow covered ground, nearly hitting her head against a lamppost. The witch had remained standing, only wobbling a bit after hitting her. The taller, bigger woman held out her hand to help Hermione up. She was surprisingly strong and Hermione caught a glimpse of her imposing looking nose and ruby red lips. There was a brooch with an old lady's face on the collar of her dress.

"Watch where you're going young lady," she said rather crossly.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, dusting off the snow and dirt off of her coat and placing her scarf back in place.

"From Hogwarts, are you?" she asked, her fashionable hat blocking off most of her face. "From Slytherin?"

"Yes and no."

"Ah, from Gryffindor? I'd recognize that determined spirit," her lips broke into a sneer. "Right?"

Hermione nodded, wondering where this was leading to. She eyed the woman's hands and saw the black gloves, dragon leather and quite expensive. It had silver clasps to tighten the gloves, the clasps in the form of tiny silver snakes.

"I best get going, duty calls," she said, then humming an unknown song in a rather evocative tone as she left Hermione standing beside the lamppost.

Hermione felt the hair on her nape stand as she listened to the humming the woman made. The woman's boots crunched in the snow as she walked on. She paused for a short moment, glancing at Hermione and then continued her way, still humming until she disappeared from the bend. Hermione stood there for a few seconds, wondering who that was. Probably just another visitor to Hogsmeade, she didn't look so familiar.

The Three Broomsticks loomed ahead and she quickly went in, grateful for the warmth. Only a small number of people were inside, some from Hogwarts, she recognized a few from Ravenclaw, huddling over a few books. Hermione went up the bar and ordered a butterbeer, sitting on a tall wooden stool.

Madam Rosmerta smiled at her. "Ah, you're alone today."

"Examinations week, first day."

"Taking it easy, are you?" she laughed, marveling at Hermione's intelligence.

Hermione took her first sip of butterbeer, filling her with warmth and contentment. She wasn't worried about the tests at all. Harry was right, she had planned not to attend the ball, but now she had second thoughts. First, Draco had given her a gorgeous dress, fit exactly for an event like the Valentine's Ball and then she had wanted badly to be with Draco- but how? There was no use going to a ball without the one person she wanted to be with- what the hell was she thinking? She was Head Girl! Not some love struck adolescent with stars and hearts in her eyes…

Her gaze shifted for the window and she saw someone quickly walking across the snow. She'd recognize that figure anywhere. Bolting up and leaving a few galleons, she left the inn and headed outside. Draco was heading for Hog's Head and just before she could call out his name, he disappeared into the thatched roofed building. Hermione stopped halfway, unsure if she should follow him. She went back inside The Three Broomsticks and sat in the same chair, wondering when Draco would come out and what he was doing there.

The minutes ticked by into hours and it was nearing one in the afternoon. Hermione knew it was time to leave, but she had been sure it was Draco…quite sure. Her Ravenclaw schoolmates waved to her, signaling that they wanted to walk with her back to Hogwarts. She nodded and gathered her bag and one notebook, the one filled with notes about runes and the like. Something in her wanted to barge into Hog's Head, but she shook the feeling off, it was like spying, like she didn't trust Draco at all. The Ravenclaw students were keen to discuss with her the differences between the Hungarian and Anglo-Saxon runes, not as part of the exam but just because they wanted to learn more. Hermione patiently answered and gently refuted some of their findings and all the while she kept glancing back and forth, looking for a hint of blond hair.

* * *

A/N: hey guys, holidays are comin' so give me some lovin'! hahahaha


	20. Army of Me

**Army of Me**

* * *

Harry woke up in the middle of the night, his heart pounding, as it always did every time he dreamt of something pertaining to Lord Voldemort. He rubbed his eyes and grabbed his glasses. Glancing at Ron, he saw the redhead still asleep, snoring. He stood up from his bed and walked for the Common Room, the torches subdued at this time of the night. He looked at the clock indicating it was past one in the morning. Someone else was in the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry smiled.

Ginny smiled back. "What are you doing here?"

"I should be asking you the same question," Harry said, taking a seat next to her. Ginny curled up beside Harry and they both stared at the flames in front of them.

"Did you have a bad dream?" Ginny asked.

"It's always a bad dream," Harry said. "Except I heard a woman's voice this time, humming…"

"Something familiar?"

"No…it was the first time I heard that. I've never heard that song she'd been humming. I heard hissing, I saw a tiny snake, curling over a book…there were hands over it, younger than Voldemort's."

"You didn't think it could be your hands?"

"I- contemplated that. But it can't be…unless- oh, I don't know."

"Really Harry. Get some sleep, will you?"

"I can sleep right here," he joked.

"As if Ron's going to allow it… sleeping beside me," she grinned.

"Well, it's not sleeping with you per se but it's still a good alternative to guys snoring."

Ginny laughed aloud and then put her mouth over her palm to stifle the laughter. Harry sniggered and playfully threw a pillow over her head. All was well for them, so far.

* * *

While Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley were joking, Draco was up to a more serious task. He had spoken quickly to his Aunt Bellatrix who had posed as a distant cousin of his mother's from France, sporting blonde hair like Draco's. She had come to pay her respects to the last Malfoy alive, as she announced in a wailing voice that his father had been feared dead, which was a lie of course.

_Speaking in rapid French and charming (actually charming) a few of the seedy looking people inside the pub of Hog's Head earlier that day, she led him to a private drinking chamber, ordering a glass of wine for each of them. The owner of the inn narrowed his eyes upon seeing Draco drink wine just right before lunch, but quietly left them to speak in personal. _

"Tante_," he began in French, addressing his aunt as he took a seat. _

"_How are we doing?" Bellatrix asked in French still. _

"_I've been working on it. It's proving difficult."_

"Je vous demande pardon._ Still are?" she said, pacing around the room and drinking the wine set before her quickly. _

"Oui._" _

"Ca n'est pas assez_!" she said, her tone rising this time. Of course his hard work and sleepless nights weren't enough. He had less than a week, for Merlin's bloody sake! She paced around again, rubbing her hands together vigorously, her hood over her shoulders, showing her coiffed hair and carefully done make-up. How she looked like his dead grandmother and how different she looked from the murderess she truly was!_

"_Have you figured anything out?" she asked. _

"_Some."_

"_Specify."_

"_I've figured out I'm looking for a chest and not another armoire. I've figured there's a need for a key. That key I have yet to find. The book of runes I've read explained a few things, but it's…the text moves around too much. We need to find something circular, I think it'll open the chest I still have to find, there's something about that key that-"_

"Repetez ca mais plus lentement_," she hissed. _

"_Key. Chest, book. Need one key for both rune symbols."_

_Bellatrix's eyes widened. "This is old magic I've never heard of. I'm sure the Master knows…" she muttered in French still. _

"_Are we still doing this in Hogwarts? The students and faculty…" Draco trailed off, rolling his eyes nonchalantly. _

_Bellatrix raised a brow. "_Ca n'a rien a faire avec nous_." _

_Draco shrugged and looked at his aunt's finger tapping against her arm. "I'm doing all I can."_

"Neveu, vous voila averti," _she said in a low and nearly husky tone, bending over to pat Draco's jaw harshly. "Don't ever make the mistake of failing this time. Our lives are in your hands, especially the Master's." _

Their conversation continued until it was nearly time for Draco's next class. By the time he stepped out of the private room, no one was in the pub except the owner who smiled at the tip the grand French aunt of the blonde boy left him. Draco nodded while his aunt arranged her bonnet properly once more and then disappeared with a tiny pop just beside the post for Hog's Head. He left the pub feeling nauseated. By the time his next exam, Divination came, all he could see were horrific omens.

But right now, right now was what mattered. He was standing once more in front of the debris inside the abandoned room, like had had done every night for nearly the past month. After an hour of flicking his wand back and forth, Draco felt reality sink in. There was no way he was going to pull through this alive; he wouldn't be able to save his family and…god, Hermione! He stood up, pounded a fist against the wall, the pressure mounting in his mind.

"Come on!" he grit his teeth, banging his head once on the stone wall, just to feel a bit of pain, the slightest compared to what the Dark Master would do to all of them. "Come on!"

He struck the wall again, consecutively, all the while feeling his eyes burn from the tears that were forming and the sting blossoming in his hand. He rested his head and one palm on the cold stone partition and looked at the ground when he saw Hermione's gift hang from his neck. Somehow, it had gotten loose from his vest and shirt. He always kept it away from prying eyes. But now, it glittered in the faint light from his wand and it spun around back and forth like a pendulum. Draco looked at it closer, as if waiting for it to stop.

It was round and small enough…he bolted upright and took off the pendant and chain off his neck. With his wand emitting brighter light, he looked closer at the pendant. His eyes narrowed as he studied the makings of the gift. There was the green gemstone, some sort of far more sparkly emerald that he had kept staring at when Hermione had given it to him last Christmas.

Set in silver, the green gemstone seemed to be forged to the base, not just by smelting, but by…some strange charm. It was evident that it had gone through near destruction for the base had noticeable chips. He had only noticed now the markings on the silver base surrounding it, and the faint outline of a serpent or a dragon, almost like an ordinary squiggly line running across the gemstone. He took out his notebook to write down the markings written on the silver base when he suddenly felt a strong pull.

The pendant vigorously swung forward and back, as if it wanted him to find something. Dowsing…almost like that…he had never tried that method before. Weren't you supposed to do that with crystals? He could feel the pendant swinging into one direction as he stood still. It was moving to the left. Left, left, left…he took a tentative step forward and followed the pull. With his wand, he flicked the assorted rubbish cluttered all over to make room for what he had been searching. Dust rose in the air, the light from his wand emitting a hazy white this time.

He stopped and grabbed the book he had stolen from the library. Holding the pendant in his hand, he began to gently place the pendant onto the centre of the book, but before he could completely attach it, he stopped abruptly. He took a seat on a broken down chair and clasped his hands in front of him, staring at the pendant on top of the book.

What the bloody hell was going on? This was a gift… Certainly, Hermione knew nothing of this! How was she to know about their plan? It wasn't even a concrete plan; he had to find out things for himself, without his obsessive aunt's help, without his mother's reassurance, without his father's constant berating. He was alone in this and yet…the gift Hermione had given him- it seemed like it was the key. He couldn't just use the gift so affectionately given for something of ill-omened use. This was Hermione's gift, Hermione searched for this. Was it fate that led Hermione find a key to Harry Potter's downfall? He had been tasked only after the key had been given away, as a Christmas present. What did this mean? Hermione couldn't be instrumental to her own closest friend's demise. Somehow he didn't want it, yet he did at the same time, to put an end to this. He suddenly felt Harry could pull through anything. Draco took a deep breath. Was he confused? He was rooting for Harry to suddenly get out of this alive, even if he did find out what was inside the chest. He was a son first, he reminded himself. Parents, no matter how detached, were irreplaceable. But the pendant reminded him otherwise. This was Hermione, too. And her as disposable was a far off notion.

He suddenly felt he couldn't press on with it. _This can't be happening_, he thought, _not when I'm this close_. He had all three objects near him now. But to place the pendant on the book would mean betrayal to Hermione, the betrayal part he couldn't explain yet. It's not like Hermione did this on purpose to test him, right? Deep down, he knew Hermione had no inkling of the pendant's worth. Where the bloody hell did she get this? He shook his head, not knowing what to do next. Scenes of his talk with his aunt surfaced; reminding him to never fail…he recalled the tear stained face of his mother…Hermione's eyes, asking for some reassurance that they would pull through…his father's last words before he disappeared…

There was only one way out of this and that was to do what he had been asked to do, before he fell in ghastly, terrible love with some dark haired Gryffindor lass. Love was terrible now, for it came with a price. He could scarcely imagine the horrors that might happen if the Wizarding world were to know he had been seeing and sneaking around with the 'Granger' girl. She was the only happiness he had, after all. She was that single ray of light let in a cavern full of shadows and misery. And without meaning to, Draco felt his lips tremble, the faintest sight of anguish one could see in his frame.

Reaching for the pendant, he placed it back on the chain and continued searching for the chest. Again, the pendant swung to and fro for the first minute and then started to gravitate for the left. There was a sudden magnetic pull as Draco flicked his wand, taking useless filth out of the way. Dust collided with rotten furniture and cobwebs, some failing all over his robes and face. Coughing and sputtering, Draco continued in near frenzy. His heart was pounding again, desperate to find this one object to bind them all in a single enchantment. He could feel blood rushing quicker into his veins, his breathing went shallow. It was here, he felt it.

The pendant stopped moving over a heap of old carpets smack dab in the centre of the room. Draco flung the carpets off and he bent down on the cold floor, his hand precariously reaching for a thin rectangular coffer, fashioned out of ordinary looking wood, supported by wrought pewter handles on the sides. It was old and seemed like a wand box, by the looks of it and Draco was afraid it just might crumble at the slightest touch. He then smiled scornfully, of course this was of old magic and it certainly wouldn't disintegrate now, would it? Holding it with two hands now (shaky still) Draco placed it on top of a grimy circular desk beside the book. The chest suddenly rattled, making Draco take a step back out of surprise. There were no windows inside that room that were open, but the room suddenly grew colder, Draco could feel frost was about to form on the floor. He looked around wildly, wondering if he had done something wrong. Then across the room, he saw someone standing. Draco's eyes widened, his sockets bulged in shock.

"Who are you?" he asked in a commanding voice.

From across, the pale woman standing pointed at something. Draco eyed it, his wand ready for a duel. She was pointing to the pendant, there was no mistaking it. This was a ghost, wasn't it? Draco stared, digesting the newcomer. He hadn't seen this ghost yet in all his years in Hogwarts. He grabbed the pendant on the table, placing it on his palm.

"Who are you?" he asked again, this time in a kinder voice.

The ghost said nothing, but looked on sadly at the pendant Draco held in his hand.

"Do you want this?" he asked.

The woman said nothing but shook her head once and Draco narrowed his eyes. There was something terribly familiar about her. The way she moved, perhaps? Or her manner of dressing….something that reminded him of old family portraits…the realization struck him.

'Areatha?" he whispered.

She gazed at Draco and then at the pendant again. Then she spun around and faded into thin air.

"Wait!" Draco called out.

What the hell was going on? Why did she suddenly come out of nowhere? Did this mean something to her? Perhaps, she owned it? His heart pounding once more, he looked at the pendant on his palm and tried to read the inscription. The handwriting was so tiny that he near went cross-eyed trying to decipher it. He had copied the runes and had only realized what it meant after the third word.

_Sanguine fluid to enter the threshold of shadow and light_

It needed blood sacrifice…Draco concluded. But which one was shadow and which one was light? Did Areatha make this? But it was in ancient runes, far older than Areatha's time…He stared at the objects, trying to absorb the turn of events. Did his ancestor suddenly appear to warn him? She had some connection to this, he thought. He looked at the box, with little serpents engraved at the base. This was certainly from Slytherin's line, the fascination for serpents. So how could it be of light? Even his pendant had faint markings of a serpent.

Draco finally decided to put the pendant on the book and just as it clicked to secure the pendant, there was a blinding flash of light that engulfed the room, escaping through the cracks of the doors and windows- as if the sun glowed in that room alone for a second. Draco was on the floor, squinting when he realized the room was dim once more. He stood up, not bothering to dust himself off. Suddenly, he could read the runes. Suddenly the book made sense.

Racing through the pages, he learned that the chest was where Salazar Slytherin had placed his wand and that it had been passed down from one generation to the next for safe keeping. The box had no known significance, except for one descendant, who around six hundred years ago had foreseen its use as a sacred vessel for one heirloom, a stolen part of the Elder Wand.

Of course, the wand functioned properly without the missing part, the one that encased the wooden handle, fashioned from Death's hands and appearing in the form of frayed leather with gold stitching. But it still had miraculous powers, powers that could be abused if it fell in the wrong hands. To encase one's wand with this would mimic some of the Elder Wand's duties to some extent, but if it came in contact with the Elder Wand, the Elder Wand would prove to still have the same amount of indestructible power. What mattered was to have this on a wand other than the Elder Wand to harness its true powers, since the leather casing would still bend to the will of the Elder Wand in the end. The illustration, clearer now, showed how the ritual to bind the wand to the leather handle worked. Should he use his wand for this? Or wait for his aunt to wield its destructive powers? The chest had gone missing a hundred years later, warring tribes, both descendants of Slytherin blamed each other for stealing the chest. How it got in this room, Draco didn't know. Perhaps…Areatha had her hand in this?

He shook his head determined to open the chest. Holding onto the ornament with his fingers, he turned the pendant clockwise three times to remove it. The book's contents faded and the runes jumbled up once more.

Grabbing a letter opener from his pocket, he deftly sliced through his left palm and allowed his blood to drip all over the pendant. The pendant glowed in a strange, nearly green hue and smoke rose up in the air as if it burned. He quickly placed the pendant on the chest's centre lock and heard clicking and tinkering inside. The chest opened by itself, revealing a simple looking elongated pouch with a gap large enough to insert any standard wand size into it. He had a sudden migraine; the enormity of it all bagged him down.

What the hell was this for? The Master only wanted the Elder Wand...why would he want something useless to the Elder Wand? Then it hit him. The Master needed two wands to be sure he could kill Harry Potter. Of course, it could mimic the Elder Wand and he could have total command over everyone else with the two most powerful wands in existence. Did he know about this back then? It was a legend, perhaps, the faintest of legends that the Dark Lord actually betted on… and it worked! Draco reeled on the floor, his eyes wide with shock again.

He had done it, he had done his part and yet he felt no pride, only a lingering worry. It was no wonder that the Dark Lord hadn't told anyone the specifics of the plan! He didn't know much about it after all. It was a wild card bet. He looked at his sore and bleeding palm and looked back at the open chest on the table. But the thought of Hermione hurt him most of all.

* * *

A/N: hold on to the story guys. it might get just a bit confusing. ^^ RR please!


	21. Mouth's Cradle

"What happened?" Nott asked Draco as Draco sat beside him in the nearly empty library. They were seated way, way back, far away from other students who were cramming for the last day's exams. Nott was looking at Draco's bandaged palm, fresh blood seeping through the gauze.

"I- I believe I figured it out," he muttered.

Nott's brows rose and then he broke into a smile. "Merlin's balls, you actually figured it out?"

"Keep your voice down."

"Right," Nott said in a smaller voice. "But you did it!" His eyes glistened under the candelabras surrounding them. "How did you- and your hand!" Nott sputtered excitedly.

"I can't have it healed. I need the wound. It's like…my key. "

"The bloody hell…" Nott whispered, trying to understand the process. "What did you find?"

"A relic stolen by some descendant of Slytherin from a Peverell descendant."

"You don't mean the Tales of Beedle the Bard, do you?"

"Exactly that."

"Merlin fucking Morgana."

"That's disgusting, Nott."

"I didn't mean that literally, but bloody hell. You sure are disappointed for an achievement this immense."

"I…still have to straighten a few things out," he said. And it was true. It was a highly complicated task, to bind the wand. And if his aunt planned an attack on Hogwarts soon, they certainly wouldn't have time for silly rituals just to use the relic. It was up to him, then. He would pursue the ritual and encase his own wand, as soon as the exams were finished. He would owl his mother, then.

"Well, in case you're still in the running to graduate with honors, you might as well study for the last two exams tomorrow. The Dark Arts comes in the afternoon. Both written and actual," Nott told him.

Draco cringed and then sighed, his pallor showing just the tiniest tinge of gray now. A month of having no sleep was taking its toll on him, physically at most. Walking for the Dark Arts section three rows behind their seats, Draco stopped in place when he saw Hermione standing in the same section. Damn it!

Without thinking, Hermione rushed for him, his hand cradled in her hands. "What happened?" she whispered, tracing the outline of blood with her fingers in almost featherlike strokes.

"I- accidentally hit the clock in our Common Room when I tried to hit a pesky bug."

"And you haven't gone to Madam Pomfrey?"

"No need. It's too small to require for her help."

"Here, I'll help you," she quickly offered, pointing her wand at his wound.

"No!" he said as Hermione's eyes widened with surprise. He took a step back and unconsciously scratched his bandaged palm.

"Are you sure you won't need my help?" she felt a bit taken aback. Useless at being unable to make a fraction of pain in Draco go away.

"No. Thanks though. This was a product of my stupidity," he told her. Stupid it was to have gotten himself into this perfectly carved mess.

Hermione shrugged, wondering why Draco was protective over such a tiny injury. Men, she mused, always wanting to show examples of bravado.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" she asked him. "Last day of exams and all for the season..."

"And that is why I'm here," Draco smiled tiredly.

"Are you sure you're alright? Look at you. You haven't had much sleep, have you?" she asked him, going nearer to his face. His eyes seemed bloodshot, his eye sockets looked more bruised than ever and he was paler than the usual pale Hermione had been accustomed to.

He laughed hollowly. "We all haven't had much sleep. My roommates snore so much, sleep is a luxury nowadays."

"Don't lie to me," she suddenly said, tired of pretending that Draco always said he was alright and that she believed it.

Draco thought he didn't hear right, but his muscles tensed. "I beg your pardon."

"You heard me, Draco."

"Why the bloody hell would I lie to you?" his temper began to flare. She was actually questioning him, thinking he was truly betraying her trust.

"There's a far better reason than snoring that's making you look like you belong to the walking dead," Hermione said, recalling Draco disappear into Hog's Head. But she didn't mention anything pertaining to that.

"I can't sleep, so there," Draco snapped. "Are you questioning my other activities now?"

"I just want to know what's making you look unwell," she reasoned, trying to hold his hand. Draco swatted it away.

"Nothing, nothing is making me sick. If I look this way, it's probably because of fucking irritants like you!" he breathed out harshly, almost forgetting that things were different now with Hermione, forgetting his politeness, forgetting that he actually fell in love with someone.

Hermione sucked her breath in. That hurt. That actually hurt…the last time she had bickered with Draco, it didn't hurt so much, probably because she knew they were adamant on teasing each other. But now, he truly meant it. She took a step backwards. The neurons in her brain sent pain throughout her chest. She almost couldn't breathe. In this sudden turn of events, Draco was back to his old, inconsiderate self.

"Hermione-" Draco began, realizing the outcome his careless words had on her. "I didn't mean that, I-"

Hermione shook her head, spun her heels and ran, leaving Draco standing there with his mouth wide open and his palm bleeding again from his now clenched fist.

"Well, that was pretty tragic," Nott's voice drawled as he entered the space. "You didn't look like a convincing Tristan to our Isolde."

Draco glared at him. "Shut it."

"Excuse me then," Nott said drily, leaving Draco standing alone in the middle of hundreds of books.

Theodore Nott left the library at half past eight in the evening, fiddling with his wand as he walked the hallways of Hogwarts. He had heard most of the conversation they both had while in the library. Draco's nature was to snap at people when he got cornered, that he understood perfectly. It wasn't easy to work for the Dark Lord when you weren't assured of your survival. He stopped by the prefect's classroom first and heard someone sniffing from the far corner. Bingo.

Quietly entering the room he slipped beside Hermione who had taken a seat on the table, her feet perched on a chair. She had cried quickly, he assumed, as only her nose and eyes were red now.

"I'm sorry about Draco, he can be such a total idiot-"

"What are you doing here?" she interrupted him, nearly glaring at him for his intrusion.

"A half hearted effort to console someone who got upset."

"Half hearted," Hermione repeated bitterly. "Is that what people from your house do all the time? Do half hearted efforts? Trick people into thinking you're grand and then throwing them away like rubbish?"

"Partially," he admitted. "But let me correct you by saying that Draco never threw you away."

"His words-"

"Words are tricky, you see."

"Words mean everything."

"In my world, it only means what benefits I can gain from it. Perhaps Draco is under a load of stress now," he suggested, eyeing her reaction.

Hermione stood up."I've had enough of Slytherin for today, thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me-"

"Sit."

"What?"

"Listen to what I have to say first. As a prefect, if it makes you feel better," he said, waiting for her to sit. How he wished it could be always like this…he cleared his throat, wondering what he was doing, for Merlin's bearded sake.

"I don't bloody know what's going on between you two exactly, if it's just some love for Slytherin and Gryffindor, or some awkward hormonal experiment. But the fact is you should stay away from Draco."

It was simply said and it suddenly left Hermione devastated. She studied Nott's movements, trying to read if he was lying, but the man was so damned composed and aloof, she could only see it as the truth.

"Why?" her voice cracked.

"Why?" Nott repeated, nearly mocking. "Why? What kind of a bloody question is that? For your self-preservation of course, Head Girl! You don't think people won't realize this soon? Wait till you're out of Hogwarts- is that what your elementary plan is? People from both sides will destroy you and Draco as well. It's not easy, what you're doing. If it's like, stop it, if it's love, stab it in the heart-"

"Stop it," Hermione murmured, fresh tears forming in her eyes.

"Stop what? Telling you what the truth is? Look at yourself now; if you can't handle Draco at his worst, then you don't deserve him."

"And you're the authority on Draco's behavior?"

"I'm an old ally. I know him best, far better than Blaise, Pansy or any other pawn. So I suggest you keep away from him, for his safety also."

"Safety? He's in danger?"

Nott threw his hands in the air. "Can I not exaggerate a bit? Look, ever since the inquisition last year, Draco's been under immense pressure to prove himself worthy of the Malfoy name, his father left them to fend for themselves. You think he's safe? He is while he's still in Hogwarts, but after he steps out of this school, that's when he's vulnerable. He-who-must-not-be-named has supporters and they, in all probability, want Draco dead."

Hermione gasped, unable to believe what she was hearing. "Then he needs all the help he can-"

"I don't mean to be rude, but shouldn't you ensure the safety of your bespectacled buddy?" he said. "That Potter brat- sorry for the adjective, needs your skills."

Hermione stopped and narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing? Are you in on this? You never spoke to me directly before and now-"

"Call it a change of heart. Draco will probably be the last Slytherin prince. And I'll see to it, in accordance to my family's loyalty, that he will stay safe while I'm also in Hogwarts."

"But…you never talk to each other. You avoid each other."

"Ah, you've been observant. But isn't that the point? No one in Slytherin wants to have a chum buddy. You're either the leader or the slave. Draco and I- our alliance goes far back, that's why we're never together, because we're equals."

Hermione felt stunned by his admission. So here was the shady Theodore Nott, actually a willing associate to Draco…her footing shifted and she stared at the floor, wondering what Draco was doing right now. It did hurt, she told herself, but Nott said she didn't deserve him if she couldn't handle him…She suddenly felt like a dragon-keeper, cautious around the beast that splayed fire when provoked.

"What do you get out of this?" Hermione suddenly asked.

Nott was silent. The words hit home. Right, what did he get out of this? He felt that he succeeded in turning Hermione's mind around; change her heart a bit about Draco. Call it a selfless act, if one must, when he could have coaxed her into thinking more about him instead of Draco. Would his family rise up once more to claim a place among the pureblooded 'royals' of his time? Would he gain back the riches his family had lost when they first joined the Death Eaters? He was certainly not too poor now, but they had more than their fair share of wealth before the First Wizarding War occurred.

"I'm waiting to see what I will get out of this," he said slowly and carefully. True, he had ambitions, but he was patient. Waiting was a part of regaining some authority in the Wizarding world. "Don't get me wrong, Granger. But I still believe Mud- Muggleborns shouldn't practice magic. How you got this skill for magic, I cannot fathom. We're envious, we truly are. You don't deserve what you have now."

"There's nothing I can do about that," she said stiffly, her brows creasing. "How was I to know I'd end up here?"

"Perhaps…it is fate."

Hermione recalled the night Draco showed her the book containing information on the two star crossed lovers from the 17th century, of Areatha and Colin. He had shown her a subtle sign of magical lineage, if she truly was connected to that Muggleborn mother Melaine Granger-Thwaite…

"Fate," Hermione said again, hollowly. "Is it fate that I sit next to you now?"

Nott laughed. "Fate? No, it's a choice. Who in Slytherin would want to sit beside you? But I sat beside you and it's not easy."

Of course it wasn't easy. Here he was, sitting, _conversing_ with a Mudblood, a Mudblood he had also begun to have_ feelings_ for. If he couldn't compete with Draco in terms of leadership, he could compete with his women. Blaise had thought he was king to that. There was a reason Blaise kept bragging about his liaisons and that was to keep interest in him alive. Draco didn't like showing off and had kept to himself when it came to his male needs. But this moment- this was his chance to make it well with her. If he could just steer her into thinking that he was better, more deserving of her liking…He suddenly felt disgusted with himself. He was betraying his bloodline, his oath to Draco and his oath to himself that he would never consort with their kind.

He stood up. "Leave him, while it's still early, while you still can."

"But you're not leaving him."

He snorted. "What am I? His lover? You're the one who needs to stay away from him. Don't distract him anymore. He needs to fix his problems with his family first."

"I can help," she said timidly.

Nott laughed as he stood in the doorway. "Help. Such a fine word. Help yourself first. The world is better off without the two of you together."

"Maybe we can change things-"

"Wake up, Head Girl. This is the real, harsh world of wizardry. Slytherin and Gryffindor together may be, but Muggleborn and Pureblood like him- never."

Hermione suppressed the sob that was about to escape her throat. She held onto the edge of the table for support. She was looked at the floor and then to the door; a glow came in from the torches outside, framing Theodore Nott in subdued light, making him look more of a kind human than a harsh bastard. Was he enjoying this? Was he gloating over her? She was trying to make the tears stop.

Nott stood in silence, observing the sad yet beautiful creature in front of him. In the soft, orangey glow, Hermione stood, one hand clutching her other arm, silent and contemplative. His heart suddenly wanted to reach out for her; he wanted to hold her, do all those namby-pamby actuations that lovers do, just to stop her from heartache. He clenched a fist. What the hell was he thinking?

"Don't cry," he said stiffly, approaching her. Gingerly, he held out a hand to put on her shoulder.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" a voice interrupted.

Nott whirled around and Hermione looked up. Draco's lips were stretched thin and his eyes narrowed, looking at the hand Nott had placed on Hermione's shoulder. Nott quickly recoiled and Draco strode for them. His eyes were tense, as if he was controlling his anger.

Nott stood ground and faced Draco. Draco was taller than he was by around an inch and a half and had a better build.

"What's this, Draco?" Nott drawled, eyeing him.

"You didn't answer my question," Draco held Nott's arm, gripped it tightly.

Nott glared at him and tried to remove Draco's hand away. Draco wouldn't budge. Nott tried harder, gritting his teeth as he did.

"Stop it!" Hermione cried out, just as Nott had successfully removed Draco's arm, hitting Hermione in the face with the back of Draco's hand.

Hermione stumbled to the floor.


	22. An Echo, A Stain

**An Echo, A Stain**

* * *

Draco's eyes widened, realizing what had just happened. He quickly knelt down just as Nott did and held Hermione by the shoulders.

"Hermione," Draco said, trembling, "I didn't mean to, I'm so sorry- I-"

Hermione sat on the floor, one hand to her cheek. Tears were pouring down her face, falling onto a bruise that was forming. She gasped and stood up unsteadily and Draco held her elbows. She wanted to run, run far away from them, but her knees were wobbly now.

Nott took a step back, watching the scene. Why wasn't he the one holding her? He didn't hit her at all, even if it wasn't on purpose. She was pale again, like how he wanted it. It was so beautiful to look at her, so fragile and lost. Couldn't it last this way, at least just for him and him alone?

Draco was looking at her eyes and he saw the tears fall down one by one, he saw the cheek that had been hit, it was swelling, forming into an ugly reminder of how careless he was. He held her face and was about to embrace her but she recoiled with a small cry, a cry of fear.

"Hermione," Draco began once more. "Please, let me look at that-"

But Hermione had left the room just as he finished saying so. Draco stood in the near empty room, with Theodore Nott behind him. The air had become heavy, like a thousand boulders were pushing on the ceiling to rob them of oxygen. Draco turned to face Nott, whose looks had by then gone sour, the first time he had seen it happen in many years.

"You son-of-a-"

"Don't think for one second you're innocent. You started all this," Nott breathed out.

"You made me hurt her."

"You did that yourself, without my help. It started in the library, remember?"

Draco's eyes widened, sensing a change deep inside of Nott. He gave a mocking laugh all of a sudden. Draco laughed and laughed as if he had found something rather funny with Nott's appearance.

"What are you laughing at?" Nott said, taking a step.

"You!" Draco sputtered.

"Me? The hell I'm as funny as-"

Draco's demeanor changed. His eyes darkened and his mouth curled upwards, as if he discovered something far greater than the chest of Salazar Slytherin.

"You like her," Draco said simply.

Without warning, Nott launched a fist to Draco's cheek. Draco stumbled and then hit Nott's jaw, sending Nott reeling to the floor, hitting a few chairs in the process. Nott stood up, determined to have a good fight, feeling the rage course through his veins- suddenly felt good to his ego. He landed a punch on Draco's shoulder and Draco fell back but retaliated with an upper cut to the chin. Nott fell to the floor, groaning, blood trailing out of his mouth. He lay there, looking at Draco's figure cast over him. Draco was shaking his right hand, sore from the unexpected brawl.

It took a full two minutes for him to regain feeling on his legs and hands and then he slowly stood up and sat on a table, wiping the blood off of his mouth with his sleeve. He sighed and his head bent down and he folded his arms, not looking at Draco.

"Should I be hanged?" Nott finally said.

Draco sat opposite to Nott, observing his face. He took a breath and shook his head. Draco sighed. Why had it come to this? He had planned a few things out but had never thought this would happen. His closest ally actually liking the same woman… wasn't that a one in a million chance? And they both liked someone of Muggleborn descent, for Merlin's sake!

"Why?" Draco finally asked.

Nott huffed. "Why. Yes, that's a pretty good question. I've been asking myself the same thing."

"But you hate her…" Draco said lamely.

"Didn't you?"

"Things are different now," Draco said.

"As are things for me," Nott muttered. "It's not easy, Draco. How did you manage this repulsive sentiment?"

"It just happened," Draco shrugged.

"Well, you've certainly marked your territory with a bit of bloodshed," Nott said with a bleeding smile.

Draco breathed in evenly. "What next?"

"What do you mean what next?"

"What do I do next?" Draco asked him.

"You're the one with the plans. I just follow you. And here I thought you were going to challenge me into another duel to see who wins her heart."

"I hope you aren't mimicking this liking for Hermione."

"That's an original emotion there, Draco," Nott told him, checking to see if his inner lip was still bleeding by pressing a finger on it. "I liked her on my terms."

"I don't know what to do next," Draco said changing the topic.

"Maybe I can help."

"Maybe," Draco exhaled.

"Try me," Nott said, flicking his wand to shut the door. "I've forgotten what it was like to actually have a duel with someone by hand and you just reawakened that part for me."

Draco chortled. "You had it coming."

"But really, what will you do now?"

"Help me figure a few things out."

It took Draco most of the early morning to explain what had occurred in that room in the turret; he showed Nott the book of Runes, the faded drawing of the chest, telling Nott he had hidden the object in the same room, leaving out that tiny detail of Hermione _actually giving_ him the key as a present. He also added some ghost appeared, that the ghost probably had a connection to either the book or the chest. He saved the last part, what was inside of the coffer and the power it held. By the time he had more or less finished, it had just struck three-thirty in the morning.

Nott sat; his eyes wide with the immense undertaking that was to be done, forgetting the final examinations. "Bloody hell…how are you going to manage that?"

Draco shrugged. "That remains to be answered."

"When?"

"The thirteenth of February."

"The ball?" Nott gasped, almost laughing.

"The full moon reaches its height at midnight."

"Damn and damn and damn," Nott breathed, running a nervous hand through his hair.

"Damn right you are," Draco said morosely, looking at the strange shadows cast all over the wall of the classroom. One strangely looked like Hermione's back turned. It was a sign, a dreadful sign.

* * *

Draco was glad that Hermione had a different schedule that last day of exams. He couldn't bear the thought of seeing her face, he had imagined if she was in pain when she slept that night, imagined if she had cried further after he had hit her unintentionally, wondered if the bruise on her face had gone worse.

He stumbled into the Great Hall for lunch after a bloody exam on Herbology. The bandage on his hand was new; he had changed it right after the tests were through. He had survived through a two hundred item exam and an actual exam concerning human sized plants and extracting their venom to make some draught to cure Dragon ailments (in case they had pet dragons in the near future). Four hours of Herbology, four hours of plant torture and four hours of constant worry over Hermione.

"You look tired," Blaise said wryly as Draco sat beside him.

"Tell me about it."

"I'm telling you, you should get back with Pansy. She might cure your common hormonal ailment."

Draco frowned and huffed. He saw Pansy wave at him as she entered the Great Hall with their other Slytherin classmates. He rolled his eyes and looked at Nott, who also hadn't had enough sleep. Nott was seated far from Draco and today Draco wanted to be away from everyone. He noticed Hermione wasn't at the Gryffindor table. The redhead was there, the pothead was there, but she wasn't. Nott gazed at the Gryffindor table and stood up after having only soup for lunch. Draco followed suit.

Harry saw Draco stand up and he excused himself, saying he wanted to go to the lavatory. He followed Draco, hiding in every corner. Draco stopped once in awhile, looking over his shoulder, feeling someone following him. Hiding in one corner, Harry left the pillar, wondering where Draco had gone.

Draco quickly brandished his wand and popped out of the corner, surprising Harry. "To what do I owe the pleasure of you following me, Potter?" he seethed.

Harry held his hands up to his chest, as if he had surrendered. "I need-" he mustered his courage to say the foul words. "I need to talk to you."

"Need?" Draco echoed. "You could always fight back. Now's the perfect moment to kill me." Unexpectedly, he pocketed his wand inside his robes and urged Harry to hit him.

Harry looked incredulous.

"That's right. Remember when you almost killed me? I was glad for that. So here's your second chance. Do it right this time. Snape won't be here to-"

"I dreamt of your aunt and Voldemort- together," Harry interrupted, his teeth gritting. His eyes spied on a small book of something that curiously looked like ancient scribbles. He faced Draco's eyes again after that split second distraction.

Draco stopped halfway. He blinked. Did Harry fucking Potter just say that he had dreamt of his aunt and the Dark Lord? He held his chin high and his jaw clenched. He could not afford to be careless. What if this was just some extremely lucky prediction of a dream that Potter had?

"And?" he breathed, still tense from Potter's revelation.

"And I think you should watch out for something."

Draco laughed hollowly. "And you're the one to help? Has the world gone bonkers? You, Harry Potter, helping the son of an assumed Death Eater-"

"I know your father is one, so don't give me this denial bull crap. I know what I dreamt of. If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you'd better watch out for your Aunt-"

"You don't know me at all!" Draco burst out. "You don't know my Aunt-"

Harry flinched. "Don't make the mistake of thinking I'd forgotten what your Aunt did to my godfather. If I could have my way, I'd leave you to die."

"All the better then!" Draco said. "This madness should cease to exist for me if you should."

"I saw your eyes, when you tried to kill Dumbledore-"

"Enough! I don't want to hear you say anything pertaining to that old man who was foolish enough to believe in Snape, and I for one am glad of the stories circulating that Snape's dead!"

Harry scowled, forgetting he was standing in front of Draco to help him, to save him from an uncertain event and a certain death. "Your aunt will kill you and your family if you fail," Harry said in a low tone, pocketing his wand. "Good luck with that."

Draco took a breath in, a deep and long one. "You know nothing, Potter."

Harry tried to smile; it came out as a cross between revulsion and pain. "I do know one thing; you don't have the guts to kill anyone, let alone kill me."

Harry turned his back on Draco.

"Potter," Draco began.

Harry slowly turned around. He saw Draco looking more tired than ever, his pallor was that of the dying, his eyes looked bruised and his one hand had a bandage wrapped around it. He stopped and tried to calm himself. He could not solve the dream, if it were real or not, without Draco's help or at least the slightest hint. Harry was about to open his mouth when a voice broke in the conversation.

"Harry, I think Hermione-" Ron stopped, seeing the head behind Harry. He frowned. "Is the-amazing-bouncing-ferret bothering you?"

Draco felt his mouth curl upwards, forming into a rather ugly sneer. "You have it the other way around."

"Oy, what's this Harry?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. "Nothing, Ron. I was about to ask the-amazing-bouncing-ferret about a few details, but I can see having a civilized conversation isn't his thing. Excuse me," Harry brusquely said, turning his back against Draco. Ron shot him a glower and left with Harry.

Draco overheard Ron asking what had just happened. Harry mumbled something and Ron laughed boisterously down the hallway. He stood there, his heart nearly beating too fast. He tried to control his breathing. Potter was ahead of his game. He knew- wait, did he? Potter had some inkling…but his aunt could never kill him. Would she? But there were so many things he didn't know about his aunt as well…was Potter on the right 'dreaming' track? He shuddered to think of what Harry had dreamt of, knowing all too well the pain the Potter brat also experienced (he had heard of accounts from various witnesses during train rides, where Harry Potter was an all too vulnerable victim from Dementors to dreams). He had declined an offer, some strange form of extended help from someone he had always known as his enemy. Potter had once declined his offer of friendship during their Sorting night seven years ago, wasn't it his right to decline Potter's delusions now?

But there was something in Potter that made him want to believe everything he had said. He saw the determination to survive, the fighting spirit that he didn't have. Draco merely followed and what fighting spirit that remained was to see Hermione and his family safe from whatever diabolical plan the Dark Lord had in store. He had wanted to know where Hermione had gotten that gift for him…well, not like Potter would know, but perhaps he could coax Potter into asking without divulging too much of his plans…

He was almost tempted to run after Potter and speak to him once more, but he shook the thought away, disgusted with those intentions. Draco Malfoy didn't ask for help from anyone, especially the arch nemesis of the man he was serving. But a lingering thought remained…Draco cursed into the cold afternoon air and walked for the Slytherin dormitory, controlling every inch of muscle that wanted a word with The-Boy-Who-Lived to end his secret turmoil.

* * *

A/N: Give me some review lovin'!


	23. New World

**New World**

* * *

"Have you seen Hermione?" Ron asked Harry.

Harry shook his head absentmindedly, his thoughts concentrated on the panic he felt in Draco's movements. Something was going on, something bigger than-

"Are you listening Harry?" Ron complained.

"Look Ron," Harry said testily, "I'm under a crap load of stress right now and I don't think I can be your shrink for the day again."

"We're all under stress," Ron muttered. "And what the bloody hell is a shrink?"

Harry laughed and felt better as he did. "It's the Muggle equivalent of a-uhm…Healers who are experts on spell damages, especially the uhm…mental kind."

"Oh. That's a funny word."

"It's slang, actually. But really, Ron, give Hermione some space."

Ron sighed deeply. "I can't help it, Harry. Hermione- she invades my mind and…"

"Please, could you talk to Ginny for that?"

"She'd laugh at me," Ron moaned. "You know how she is and you know how close she is to Hermione. She'll think I was the one that was wrong, that I caused all this to happen-"

"Didn't you?" Harry said arriving in front of the doorway of the Great Hall.

"Fine, I did," Ron said, scowling. "I'm trying my best to make amends here."

"Just…let her be," Harry said tiredly, wanting to discuss more important issues, like his life, for example.

Ron stopped, knowing he wasn't getting anywhere. He also noticed Harry's agitation. "What's going on, mate? Is there something you're not telling me?"

Harry sighed. "It's about time you noticed."

"Spill it."

"Not here."

"Fine," Ron said. "At least after our last exam for this woeful Wednesday?"

Harry nodded. "Deal."

* * *

He walked alone, unable to stomach lunch. He had not seen Theodore Nott and wondered sardonically if he was still trying to make a pass on Hermione again. He was walking along the seventh floor this time.

Draco found himself in front of Dumbledore's old workplace, a workplace that Professor McGonagall still maintained for sentimental reasons, though she herself had chosen a different room for her use. He paused and stared at the ugly stone gargoyle guarding the entrance. The gargoyle was unmoving, as only a password could open the entrance. Draco sat on the stone floor, beside the gargoyle, staring at the wall across him. Just when he felt he had direction, he suddenly felt lost.

With his head bowed down, he began to hum a lullaby his mother used to sing to him before. He felt defeated and worn out from the tension. He tried to remember the words to the song and only had a smattering of memories left from it.

"Hush baby, my doll, I pray you don't cry, and I'll give you some bread…And some milk by and by…"he sang in a trembling voice. He shut his eyes and strained to recall the words.

"Or…or perhaps you like _custard_…" he stopped, hearing something move. He stood up and found the gargoyle completely turned around, revealing a staircase. His eyes widened, and without further delay, he stepped on the staircase and into a room he had never been in, in all his years of studying in Hogwarts.

The room was filled with various objects of interest, and Draco felt he had stepped into a vault filled with odd treasures. There were thin silver instruments that emitted light smoke; portraits of past Headmasters filled the walls, some were sleeping, some canvasses were blank. There were cabinets filled with shiny things. The Headmaster's table in the center of the room had a thick blanket of dust over it, as was the perch where Fawkes, his Phoenix, used to stay on. He saw a high podium on one corner, were the Sorting Hat sat dormant, waiting for the next new batch of first years. He approached it and was about to touch it, when it spoke, making Draco jump back one step.

"I remember you," the Sorting Hat growled, forming a thin line near the brim to indicate it had some sort of mouth. "Malfoy, Slytherin."

Draco let out a breath.

"Enjoying your last year are you?" the Hat asked.

Draco scoffed. "You've got to be kidding me. That House will get me killed soon."

"Ah, but I'm never wrong."

"Maybe once. Just once," Draco muttered.

"I remember you wanted to be in Slytherin…" the Hat told him coyly. "I only announced what was your destiny."

Draco scowled and turned his back against the Hat. The Hat became quiet once more, as if it had fallen asleep again. In the corner of his eye, he spied a peculiar looking object. Something that looked like a sink, but it had strange, silvery liquid that also looked like it floated inside of a metal basin. There were rune carvings all over the stone pedestal. Draco bent down to translate the characters carved into the four corners of the stone base. It read: Isa, Nauthiz, Gebo and Kenaz, meaning Ice, Need, Gift and Torch respectively.

Draco frowned and wondered what this contraption was. He had heard of basins with curses- but surely Dumbledore wouldn't have placed such an item for the world to see if it were truly cursed, right? There was a cabinet near it, filled with bottles in all shapes and sizes, all faintly glowing in wispy blue and silver light. He saw the bottles marked with dates and curiously he reached out for one.

"October 1, 1981…" Draco read. He opened the bottle and tried to see if the liquid would come to life on its own. Instead it trailed down into the basin and Draco, quite shocked by what he had done and believing it to be irretrievable, scrambled to get it back, holding onto the basin's edges.

What happened next was something Draco had never experienced yet. He thought he had drowned, but how could he when his head was just inside a basin? The liquid swirled around him, changing hues, the ink then formed into a scene. Draco's eyes widened. Was he inside a memory? He felt his stomach jolt forward when the scene had materialized completely.

_He, along with a few young adults, were inside a room; some castle perhaps? Dumbledore was there, as were a young red haired woman carrying a baby and a man with unruly hair that certainly looked familiar. _

"_I can be the Secret-Keeper," Dumbledore said. _

_The woman and man shook their heads. The baby in the woman's arms gurgled, happily playing with Dumbledore's beard. Dumbledore looked on with sad eyes. _

"_Sir, we appreciate what you're doing but it is best if we chose from our closest friends," the young man said earnestly. _

"_Lily, James…"Dumbledore began. "This is your family's life we're talking about and that man is out to kill you, surely-"_

"_Professor," Lily said in a soft voice, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Certainly this will all lead to good, especially for Harry's sake…"_

The scene began to rapidly evaporate and the ink swirled around Draco. Draco gasped as he stood away from the basin, his heart thudding. Had he just witnessed a memory of Dumbledore's? It was the first time he had also seen Harry's parents…and Harry, he was helpless, so young, so needy… He had heard of this contraption before but had never seen it up close…holding the empty bottle close to the basin, he experimented by using his wand to siphon the wisps back into the glass bottle. It worked. Elated, Draco looked for other bottles with significant dates. His thin hands roamed throughout the cabinet.

He found an old memory, and knew it wasn't from Dumbledore's time. It was dated, according to the old parchment stuck to it, on the 31st of June, 1744 with the initials P.E. Professor Everard must've been the Headmaster at this time, since his own great grandfather had served during the late 1890s. He saw a portrait, empty, but with Everard's name. The date of his instalment corresponded with the bottle's own date. Draco unceremoniously poured the contents onto the basin and put his head in. The scene changed quickly. He was now in a room...wait, he was in the Headmaster's office two hundred years ago. He was staring at four people in the room. One was Professor Everard, the other two were young men no older than he was, and the last one was...Areatha! He took a second look at the young men, hoping that one of them would be Colin Peverell. One of the students was wearing Hufflepuff robes and his pallor contrasted with the bright yellow.

"_You are sure you saw no one sneak onto your cauldron?" Professor Everard's hoarse voice asked. _ _The Hufflepuff lad shook his head. "I don't know what happened, Professor. One moment I was waiting for my concoction to simmer…if it wasn't for Miss Lestrange..I-"_

"_Yes, yes. I know about Miss Lestrange's heroic actions. What I want to know is this…who else was near your table before you accidentally got poisoned. Mister ah, Mr. Colin Peverell, you used the area before Mr. William Diggory, did you by chance leave any residue from your previous concoctions that may have resulted in this accidental poisoning?" _

"_No, Professor," Colin Peverell vehemently denied. "I cleaned up after and thoroughly at that. We had the same ingredients for the afternoon class. How could I just grab bloodroot from Professor Viridian's storage?" _

_Everard nodded thoughtfully. "Miss Lestrange, did you by chance notice anyone near Professor Viridian's cupboards? Or near Mr. Digorry's cauldron?" _

_Areatha stepped forward, the faint light in the room illuminating her appealing face. She was small in stature beside the men inside the room. She shook her head in reply. _

"_I will hold further enquiry to other students and professors…in the meantime, let it be known Miss Lestrange, that you will receive a special award for saving Mr. Diggory."_

_William Diggory (who oddly looked like an older version of Cedric) nodded in agreement, a blush forming on his face. Draco saw Colin Peverell eye William's expression. Colin then gazed at Areatha and gave a small smile. _

"_Well, that's that," Everard said. "If you please, Mr. Diggory, I'd like to have a private word with Ms. Lestrange and Mr. Peverell."_

_William nodded and excused himself, his eyes lingering on Areatha all the while as he walked for the exit. Everard sat on his chair and looked at the Slytherin lass and the Gryffindor lad in front of him, each on a chair also. _ "_I hope you know why I've asked to have a private word with you." _

_The youngsters shook their heads._

"_I do not mean to pry into such a juvenile world, but I have heard of rumours about fights starting in the guise of defending your houses and...your names."_

"_Just silly pranks, Sir," Colin said quickly._

"_Ah, but pranks, although silly, may prove dangerous. Take Mr. Digorry's near fatal prank? If you do not mind, would you care to divulge the friction between you two?" _

"_There is no friction, sir!" Colin nearly interrupted him. _

"_I believe Miss Lestrange has a say in this too, Mr. Peverell," Everard said._

_Areatha looked up from her chair. "I- there are no fights between us."_

"_Friendly competition, then? You two are outstanding students, after all," Everard chimed in. _

"_Something like that," Areatha whispered, fidgeting with a necklace. _ _Draco saw the pendant and his eyes nearly popped. She held the key to the chest and book before he did! _

"_As prefects, I suggest you to straighten things out between your Houses. I know rivalry is something that won't disappear. Your Houses are polar opposites after all. A few hexes reported by the school nurse have been enough to call my attention. I have heard of your cousins, Miss Lestrange, planning to boycott Muggleborns for getting into Hogwarts next semester-"_

"_They don't understand," Areatha said. "There is no rivalry between Colin and I. If they only saw the-" she stopped, afraid to say more._

"_Yes, Miss Lestrange? Are you finding it uncomfortable to discuss certain sentiments between you and Mr. Peverell?"_

_Areatha looked into Colin's eyes imploringly. _

_Colin spoke up then. _ "_Sir, please understand. We do not mean any harm, but we need to quell the rumours of us being...together. She'll be persecuted by her family, I can't have that. I do care for her, sir. If I had my way, I'd let the whole school know..." his voice trailed off and his face turned red. He had said too much. _

"_I have graduated from the House of Ravenclaw, I am of even ground and your secret is safe with me," Everard assured them. "I do suggest that you maintain cordiality in spite of the recent events. Appearances are paramount in this age and time," he sighed. "If only the Houses could live in harmony and completely at that. Well, that is all. You may leave."_

_The youngsters murmured their excuses and stood up slowly. While Professor Everard opened a book, he saw out of the corner of his eye the young man and woman quietly holding hands. He smiled sadly..._

Draco was launched back to the real world, his heart thudding at the thought of seeing his ancestor and a descendant of Peverell in the inked flesh. He quickly returned the bottle with the memory and sat down on a stone step. He had just witnessed Areatha wearing the pendant he now wore. What the hell did this mean now? A sudden clang broke the silence in the room, the clock striking one in the afternoon. Draco groaned; tests were going to start in a few minutes. He stood up, not wanting to leave the room. The clock rang again and Draco cursed, hating the horrible timing of events.

* * *

While Harry and Ron were talking, across the castle and Draco was busy with the Pensieve, Hermione was sitting on the ledge that she and Draco used to sit by. She was alone, like how she wanted it. It was cold that noon, and the lake gleamed under the sunlight that had somehow broken loose from the clouds. She sat, cold and uncaring. She sat, trying to numb herself from what had happened the night before. One last hurdle and she'd survive this part of the N.E.W.T.S.

Strangely, her heart felt empty, but not devoid of hurt. She had done her best to heal the bruise Draco had inadvertently given her. There was nothing on her face to show that mark, except her eyes had mirrored most of the ache. She had avoided almost everyone successfully that morning, with various typical 'Hermione' excuses about studying or to catch up on her reading.

Hermione's gaze shifted to the dense forest across her. In that green expanse, the underground cave lay, undisturbed. They had not stepped inside that cavern in nearly a month- well she didn't, she wasn't sure about Draco though. Draco again, in her mind, Draco… She shivered and wrapped her coat around herself tighter, determined to last through the rest of the day despite a nagging pain in her chest.

* * *

A/N: just a little "background breather". ^^ R&R please!


	24. Sacrifice

**Sacrifice**

* * *

The hallways were noisy as a festive mood had replaced the sombre air after the clock struck four in the afternoon. Nearly everyone was excited for the scheduled ball in three days time. The prefects felt the pressure of a different kind now, that of delivering an unforgettable party. They huddled together in the Prefects' classroom despite the roaring fire near the grate.

"Has anyone seen Hermione?" Terry asked with a sigh, wondering where Hermione was. This was the first time she had ever been late. A few of the other prefects shrugged. Some yawned.

Hermione walked into the room right after Terry asked for her. "Sorry, I'm late. I had to take care of a few other things."She didn't mention that she had spent the last few minutes mulling whether she would attend the meeting or not. She slipped onto a chair as Terry opened the meeting rattling on with reminders and whatnot. Hermione had thought Draco wouldn't be there. She was right. Draco's face wasn't part of the prefect crowd.

Terry called the names of the prefects and their duties for the ball. "Where's Malfoy?" Terry said testily.

Nott raised his hand. "He's under the weather."

Terry raised a brow. "Aren't we all? Well, since you're from the same House, remind him of his duties please.

"Nott bobbed his head. "Will do."

Hermione blinked. Under the weather? Like he was sick? Or was it just some lame excuse to relinquish his duties? Nott had his arms folded across his chest, not once looking at her. Hermione almost frowned as she tried to keep up with the meeting. She saw Ginny looking concerned across and she gave a small smile to ward off Ginny's look of unease. The meeting rambled on until five in the afternoon.

"Well then," Terry said, closing the meeting. "Have a good time looking for something to wear in three days with this schedule."

Some groaned and some laughed.

Ginny quickly approached Hermione and held her arm around hers."So…have you found some frock to abuse this Saturday?" Ginny asked, laughing.

Hermione shrugged. "I'll find something."

"Ever the optimist," Ginny told her. Ginny then proceeded to harass Hermione into accompanying her to Hogsmeade for an hour the following day. Of course, Hermione agreed despite her presence being needed almost every day for the remaining three days.

Hermione and Terry and a few other prefects walked for the Great Hall. It was quite empty as everyone was busy for ball preparations.

"Right," Terry nodded toward Susan Bones and the rest of the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw prefects. "You guys know what to do."

The group of prefects began discussing the various props and where to place them. The Slytherin prefects stood turned to face them. "Well?"

"We'll be heading for Hogsmeade tomorrow," Daphne spoke up with arms crossed. "Drinks."

"Ah..."Terry's voice trailed and he frowned. "Weren't you supposed to do something else?"

Susan passed by. "They were supposed to be in charge of gathering dead wood for the entrance, remember, Terry? Paint it in white then hang snowflakes in red and white all over?"

Daphne grit her teeth and rolled her eyes. "Oh sod it," she muttered, leaving with Nott and the other Slytherin prefects to find branches and the like. "Bloody goody-two-shoes..." she was heard to mutter

.Susan sighed and Padma patted her huffed. "Don't mind her. She's at it again with her snooty ways."

Hermione said nothing and excused herself, saying she needed to catch her breath and might have the need to go to Madam Pomfrey's. Ginny had wanted to accompany her, but Hermione insisted she would had lied of course and felt bad about it, so she quickly walked away from the Great Hall, past Hagrid's cottage, heading for that little spot she and Draco used to sit by during Christmas break. She was alone again and she conjured a few flames to keep herself warm. She stared at the lake; it was dark and ominous, despite the day being clear. It had been the second time she had sat in the same place, lost in her trail of shivered, despite having the pocket sized flames around her.

She heard footsteps crunching in the snow and before she could turn, she found someone placing a coat on her shoulders. She looked up and saw Draco standing beside her, not looking at her, but at the quiet dragged on for several minutes until Draco broke the silence.

"Are you still mad at me?" he asked her in a low voice.

"Mad..." Hermione repeated. "I was. Now...I'm just...disappointed."

Draco winced. "That actually hurts far better than anger."

Hermione sighed deeply. "It does, doesn't it?"

"I'm sorry," he breathed out suddenly held his hand as he stood. He looked down on her and saw her eyes, forgiving and kind. He felt weak. He sat beside her and clutched her hand tightly for a second."Merlin, you get me all flustered," Draco laughed nervously

.Hermione looked at him and pinched her lips. "Is Nott-?"

"What? Alright?" Draco huffed. "I think he's alive." He saw Hermione's reproaching eyes. "Yes, he's fine. He's just...not used to us- you know..."

"I know what you mean," she said, not fully perceptive of Nott's hidden feelings for her.

"Hermione," he began, wanting to steer the subject into more important ground."I'm just curious. Where did you get the pendant you gave me for Christmas?"

Hermione blinked. "Why? And you're changing the subject."

"I just...look," he said, taking a deep breath."I've been having hallucinations or dreams..."

Hermione's head snapped up. "Bad ones?"

"More or less."Hermione looked worried. "I got it off Hogsmeade. That tiny store adjacent the Shrieking Shack, well not exactly adjacent, but before the path that leads to the shack... the antique store...is it that horrible? I should give it back... I saw it in a corner, tucked away and hanging on a little jewellery rack. I didn't mean to-"

"I'm fine. It's just...the dreams are a bit unsettling."

"I asked the shopkeeper where it came from. He said it was bought by his grandfather from a traveller back in 1920..." Hermione looked even more worried. "He said it was hex free, he was sure. I'm sure, I checked it myself-"

"I'm alive. No hexes. Maybe this came from someone important. Did he tell you anything else?" Draco asked her, determined to sound nonchalant.

"Nothing else. Just that he thought this was a charm of sorts, that it brought his grandfather luck on the day he bought it. Are you sure that's all you've been having? Those bad dreams?"

"Yes," he said.

Hermione laid a head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. Maybe that's why you couldn't sleep...I'm so sorry I rushed into assuming things...shouldn't you take it off now?"

"It's fine, let it stay. At least I know where you got it. For a moment there, I thought you were out to get me."

"I am out to get you, but only in the most pleasant way possible."

Draco laughed outright and kissed her head. "So...are you really going to wear what I gave you?"

"Should I?"

"It wasn't easy getting that," he said with a raised smiled.

"I will, then. And don't laugh at me."

"Laugh? I'll beat up anyone who does. Say...how would you like to hang out for awhile? Play truant?"

"And where do you propose we hang out without getting caught up with revelry preparations?" Draco winked at her, stood up and held her hand. Hermione laughed and took it.

As they walked away from the little cliff, someone else stood across the distance, eyeing them, wondering if following them would reveal anything else. A few seconds after Draco and Hermione's profile disappeared; the person sped to the same direction.

* * *

Hermione came back to the Gryffindor Common Room past seven-thirty in the evening. The room was empty as it was dinner time.

"Where were you?" Harry's voice broke out as he descended from the Male blinked.

"I fell asleep. In the uhm, library."Harry frowned. "Really? I thought you wanted to go to the infirmary? Are you sick?"

"I just...felt a bit under the weather. Then I thought I could rest..."

"In the library?"

"Somewhere Ron won't be interested in."

Harry laughed. "He wants another chance with you, you know.

"Hermione grimaced. "Please...no need to make me feel sick again."

Harry smiled and was about to turn when he suddenly let out a gasp of pain and fell to the floor with a bang, as if suffering from a seizure or from an unforgivable spell. Hermione gasped, running for him as he lay shaking on the floor."Harry! Harry!" she cried out. "Is anyone here? Help me! Help us!"

Harry's pupils had been then disappeared; the whites of his eyes seemed to bulge out. Someone else ran from the male dormitory and another person came from the female dormitory. In less than a second, Seamus Finnigan and Faye Dunbar were beside Hermione and Harry. Hermione held Harry sideways as the two hovered over worried.

"Get someone! Get help!"

Nearly panicking, Hermione ran out and in a minute, was back with Professor McGonagall who had bent down across Hermione, casting a spell to calm him. It didn't work. Harry was now foaming in the mouth, shuddering for a few more seconds until his body quieted trembled and was on the verge of crying as Professor McGonagall held Harry's wrist and then his forehead. She avoided Hermione's eyes but told her in a low voice that Harry seemed cold and that he was by all accounts alive.

Hermione breathed out and stroked Harry's hair, whispering to an unconscious Harry that everything would be alright and that they were getting him help. A stretcher conjured by McGonagall carried Harry solemnly up to the infirmary; thankfully, no students were present in the corridors. Seamus excused himself, no doubt to inform Ron. But at that moment, Hermione didn't at the infirmary, McGonagall turned to face Faye Dunbar and excused her off, thanking her for her assistance.

Madam Pomfrey's eyes widened, seeing Harry on the stretcher."What happened?" she asked, bustling into immediate action.

"The boy had some sort of seizure," McGonagall explained quickly as they transferred Harry to a Pomfrey checked up Harry's eyelids and his pulse. She quickly pulled a bed sheet up to his chest area.

"Did he eat anything, drink anything, Miss Granger?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. I just entered the Common Room, spoke to him a little and then he suddenly dropped to the floor," she trembled.

"Well, he hasn't been poisoned, that's for sure," Madam Pomfrey said."Stress, perhaps?"

"Harry- he sort of gave a gasp, like he wanted to touch his forehead..." Hermione blinked.

McGonagall nearly gasped. This was probably the work of- oh dear Merlin! Dumbledore was gone. How would she manage this? She paced around the edge of Harry's bed. She could call for Aurors to work on his protection and that of the other students, as well. She had heard of news from the Ministry, that something dark was astir once more, less than a year after Dumbledore's death by Snape's hands. Of course, rumours always persisted, but she had been anxious about the _real_ come back of the Death Eaters and their leader. Was this it? Harry had been known to be sensitive to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Every little cruel action from him resulted in Harry's pain. Was there some painful action inflicted on the Dark Lord himself?

She turned to face Hermione and then saw the doors to the infirmary open, Ginny and Ron Weasley entered and walked hurriedly for the bed. Hermione took a few steps back to give the siblings some room.

"What happened?" Ginny croaked, holding Harry's pale hand.

"We don't know yet, Miss Weasley," McGonagall said gently. "Miss Granger was quick enough to call for help and I only partially witnessed a convulsion. Now if you'll excuse us, Madam Pomfrey and I have to discuss something."

They quickly walked for Madam Pomfrey's desk at the end of the infirmary.

"Hermione?" Ginny looked at her. "Why? What could have-?"

Hermione took a breath and told her what had happened less than ten minutes ago. Ginny's face flinched as Hermione described Harry's body convulsing. Hermione left out the part where Harry's mouth had foamed.

"It's He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, I know it. He almost collapsed on the way back from the holidays. He had this dream while on the train..." Ron's voice trailed off. He sat down an empty bed beside Harry, his hands nervously brushing against each other.

"If he's out to get Harry again, why did this thing- this seizure happen only now?" Ginny demanded. "I know he's passed out, but to have this kind of fit-!"

Hermione said nothing. She stared at her friend's pale figure and then she saw Ginny's watery eyes. Ron stared at the floor.

"Maybe," Hermione began. "He's done something new or planning something too big for himself to cause that pain on Harry. Harry always complains of his scar hurting if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is up to something."

Ron nodded. "Could be. Or...Harry saw something too painful for his mind."

Ginny slowly nodded."These are possible, but- oh, I don't know anymore."

Hermione hugged herself as she stood. She looked outside and saw the snow furiously swirling into the night. The wind nearly howled, as if it were some portent envoy. She shuddered.

* * *

A/N: till next! ^^


	25. Vertebrae by Vertebrae

**Vertebrae by Vertebrae**

* * *

"Draco, are you alright?"

The voice seemed to come from far away and Draco blinked, realizing he was on the floor. Nott was hovering over him and he held out a hand to help Draco up. Draco quickly sat on a chair, his head swimming with nausea. They were inside an empty room on the fifth floor, a study room reserved for prefects from Slytherin.

"I- what happened?"

"You're kidding me," Nott said. Then he saw Draco's lost look and sighed, "We were talking about your next plan of action when you suddenly slipped off your chair and started shaking. I thought you were dying or something."

Draco nodded grimly, wishing he had died. "Did anything else happen?"

"You were mumbling incoherently."

"You heard nothing that made sense?" he asked, reaching for a small book of runes he had borrowed from the Malfoy Manor's private library three years back.

Nott shook his head. "No. Do you remember anything while you were out?"

"What a question," Draco said with one hand on his forehead. He felt very cold. But then, he did recall something that he refused to divulge. He saw the Dark Lord, his body racked with pain over something failed. He had punished those who were with him. His aunt wasn't there, thankfully, but his uncle was. The Dark Lord had screamed and writhed in agony, demanding that Draco's task be done to end his pain. The Dark Lord had pointed to him...

"Hey, it is possible. You could have some sort of vision," Nott interrupted his trail of thought.

Draco shook his head, resisting the urge to throw up; unaware that Harry Potter had experienced nearly the same thing, only Harry's was far worse.

* * *

Harry had awoken an hour later and Madam Pomfrey set out by giving him a potion to reduce his pallor. Ginny, Hermione and Ron were still beside him. He did not remember a thing. He mumbled about his head hurting when asked how he felt. He looked dazed as Ginny talked soothingly to him about what had happened. Hermione sat on a chair beside Ginny, quiet and in deep thought. Professor McGonagall had left the infirmary minutes before he had awoken to set up a meeting with a few Aurors for the following day. Madam Pomfrey sat behind her desk, writing on a ledger a few notes pertaining to Harry's sudden ill health for record purposes.

"You were there?" Harry asked Hermione, trying to focus on her face.

Hermione nodded. "We were talking then you turned around and then you fell to the floor."

"Do you think it was Voldemort?" Harry said, sounding angry but too tired to look the part.

Hermione and Ron shrugged at the same time together. Hermione pursed her lips and told Harry to sleep again. Harry refused.

"What if he's out to get us? Tonight?" Harry began.

"Harry, there have been no confirmed reports of him on the move again. Professor McGonagall's gone to ask help from the ministry, we reckon she wants protection for the school also," Ginny said.

"Harry, are you sure you remember nothing?" Hermione asked.

Harry looked down on the clean white sheets and sighed. "I'm trying. The only thing I can recall was hearing some ear splitting scream, and that's it. I don't remember seeing any face at all."

"I won't be having you stressing Mr. Potter out, now off with you three," Madam Pomfrey said, walking for them and shooing them about.

Ginny squeezed Harry's hand and whispered something in his ear. Hermione patted his hand once as Ron gave him a thumbs-up, telling him he had to be present to fix up the Great Hall for tomorrow. Harry nodded with a smile as Madam Pomfrey gave Harry a stern warning about the need for a proper rest.

* * *

"Harry!" Hermione gasped, seeing him walk for the Gryffindor table the following morning.

He looked better than ever, like nothing had harmed him at all. He slipped on the seat, beside Ron and Ron clapped a palm on his back. Hermione was a few seats away from Harry and she quickly moved in to be closer to Harry, keeping in mind to have a good distance away from Ron too. Ginny thankfully sat in between Hermione and Ron. The four of them, including Seamus and Faye kept mum about the incident.

The morning air was abuzz with talk about the ball; the students were to have the afternoon off to ready themselves for it. Even the Slytherins spoke about it, although in hushed tones. Pansy twittered about it though, gushing over something her mother had sent her from her last trip to France. She passed long glances to Draco as she spoke to her female cohorts.

Draco paid no attention; he was absentmindedly drinking juice as Blaise bragged on with his planned conquest _or _conquests for the night. He nodded once in awhile, looking withdrawn and only Nott seemed to notice this. Well, of course, he was the only one who knew what Draco was going through. The day seemed to pass by too quickly for Draco, and although he looked calm, he was apprehensive underneath. To his horror, the last two lessons of the morning were over by eleven-thirty. He walked slowly among the throng when he spotted Professor McGonagall welcoming four older looking people among the students.

His eyes widened a bit. He recognized these people from the newspaper. Aurors. Kingsley Shacklebolt was there, along with Proudfoot, Savage and Williamson. McGonagall stood; her lips pursed and then she led them to a staircase heading for her office. Draco saw Kingsley glance at him and Draco felt his jaw set, his eyes defiant. It lasted only a second.

Draco shook his head, determined not to let the plans spoil. He had to get out of Hogwarts and get to Hogsmeade without anyone seeing him. Walking for the nearest exit, Draco found himself on the Quidditch class grounds, the snow up to his ankles. No one was around. He walked for Hogsmeade straight away.

* * *

Harry looked at the grim faces before him and knew he was in for a long talk. Hermione and Ron were with him, quietly standing before the Aurors and Professor McGonagall. Professor McGonagall began to explain the need for further protection and Auror presence.

"We'll set up additional barriers tonight," Shacklebolt said in his baritone voice. He turned to face Harry and asked, "Do you recall anything at all?"

Harry shook his head and felt defeated. "I'm sorry sir. I've racked my brain to try and remember something at least; I just keep remembering someone howling in pain..."

"You won't cancel the ball, Professor?" Ron spoke up.

McGonagall pursed her lips once more. She cleared her throat. "I have taken the liberty to ask for aid from the Ministry. Thus, if there is no news of immediate danger until four in the afternoon tomorrow, the ball may push through."

"I'd like to see the Death Eaters crash into an adolescent party," Savage snickered.

The two other Aurors laughed, but Kingsley didn't.

He shot a glare at the three younger Aurors and cleared his throat as well, facing Hermione. "I have been told you were Head Girl this school year. I request that you have your prefects on alert and that they take turns scouting the nearest grounds surrounding the First Floor of Hogwarts, they will of course report to us once in awhile. After our shift, we will be sending another batch of Aurors at dawn."

"Even the Slytherins?" Ron said with a gasp.

Kingsley's brow rose. "Why young man? Does it affect Hogwarts' overall protection by telling Slytherin prefects to guard their own school?"

Harry stepped in. "Sorry, Sir. There have been certain biases with the current situation. You see, Slytherin hasn't been of much...they're not in good terms with any of the houses other than themselves."

"It's still on, eh?" Williamson chimed in. He was a man in his early thirties with a shock of orangey-red hair. "I was in Hufflepuff back in the day and it was war I tell you, one time I cast a flaming-ear hex on one of those Slytherin bas-"

Professor McGonagall loudly cleared her throat.

Williamson stopped and grinned. "Sorry ma'am. Just a little trip down memory lane. You do remember no one was particularly close to anyone from Slytherin."

McGonagall stopped in place. It was true. As far as she could remember. She sighed and eyed the three youngsters before her. The youngsters, who had defied every set of rules imaginable, defied every reason to die. Harry Potter no doubt, lent his greater fighting and surviving spirit to the young lass and the red headed lad. She recalled the young boy walking into the halls of the castle, green eyes in awe of the magic present. He was so small and nearly defenceless, but he had proved himself a warrior in his own right. From first year all the way up to now, he still had the same determined spirit. She would die before someone would lay a hex on any of her students, even those from Slytherin. Slytherin wasn't bad, she thought, although some seemed misunderstood and lacked the proper guidance...

"Professor?" Kingsley interrupted her. "Would it be alright if we started sweeping the hallways clear?"

She nodded and the Aurors left, the three younger ones stayed in her office, dumbfounded by the sudden turn of events.

"Alright Mr. Potter, I want no heroic actions from you tonight or tomorrow, not until this matter is settled," McGonagall said sternly.

"Will it ever get settled, Professor?" Harry asked her in a bitter tone.

Hermione tugged on Harry's sleeve, as if to reprimand him for asking Professor McGonagall that question. "I'm sorry Professor, Harry needs more rest," Hermione said, quickly holding onto Harry's arm and leading him out.

Ron followed. "Excuse us, ma'am," Ron mumbled.

Hermione shoved Harry into an empty classroom and Ron sat beside Harry. Harry's face was distraught and angry at the same time. Weak sunlight filtered into the room, dust danced in the air, setting an atmosphere of gloom in everyone's faces.

"You shouldn't talk like that," Hermione told him.

"Talk like that? I was stating the obvious. It won't end unless one of us dies-"

"And that has to be him, not you!" Hermione said ardently.

Ron nodded. "She's right, mate. Best be thankful Auror presence is here."

Hermione pursed her lips and avoided looking at Ron. She bent down and touched Harry's clenched fist. "Harry, you know that you're going to need all the help you can get-"

"At the cost of other people's lives?" Harry began. "We've lost more than a fair share of the Wizarding population because of me. If he wants to have a battle, let him come, he-"

"The point is to protect everyone. I promise I'll do my part," Hermione told him. "Now, keep your chin up. I'm sure Ginny will be worried if you keep up with that long face of yours."

"Hermione- what if he's out to get something that belonged to Dumbledore?" Harry suddenly spoke up.

Hermione stopped in place. Last summer, she, along with Harry and Ron had received heirlooms from the deceased Dumbledore. She had racked her brains out, trying to understand the connection between Voldemort, the book and Harry. She knew Dumbledore had been buried with his wand and she had assumed it might have been the Elder Wand. But of course, this had to be proven. The book Dumbledore gave her was safe in Gringott's, as was Harry and Ron's heirlooms.

"Harry," Hermione said, her heartbeat elevating considerably, "What if Voldemort's after the wand in Professor Dumbledore's tomb?"

Harry's eyes widened and so did Ron's. "So he's trying to break into school to steal a wand?"

"Dishonourable prick," Ron said.

"But he can't yet," Harry said, excitement coursing through him now. "He's too weak; his scream must've been the one I've heard. He needs something else to break into Hogwarts, no one else can do it, and I'm sure, not even his strongest Death Eater can break into Dumbledore's tomb barriers. He needs something to make him stronger then taking whatever it is will be as easy as-"

"Harry, you do realize you're making theories up," Ron said.

"Plausible theories!" Harry answered. "What do you think Hermione? Haven't you noticed anything strange lately? We all know Dumbledore's tomb was sealed for protection by the Ministry. They sent the greatest Aurors just to protect his tomb, they had no knowledge that his wand just might be the wand that Voldemort needs, but Voldemort, maybe; just maybe he got wind of it. Don't you see? He wants that wand, he needs something to break into it, that's why there's been news of Death Eater sightings close to Hogwarts-"

"Harry!" Hermione held her hands up to stop him from rambling on. Harry stopped and took a breath.

"Alright, Harry," Hermione continued, "Then if your theory might be true, how can you fight against him when you're-"

"Lacking power? I don't intend to steal Dumbledore's wand at all, I want to protect it from him. If Voldemort gains access into Hogwarts and steals the wand inside his tomb..."

"Woah," Ron said, incredulous from Harry's talk. "Harry, if this theory is plausible, shouldn't we at least tell someone else? Professor McGonagall or the Aurors, at least."

Harry took another breath. "I'm telling them tomorrow then. You have to help me figure things out, Hermione, Ron."

And they stayed inside the empty classroom until the clock struck three and Hermione remembered she was supposed to meet Ginny. They had discussed the theory for three solid hours, forgetting lunch.

"Hermione," Harry called out as she was halfway through the door. "Please don't say anything to Ginny."

Hermione nodded and then excused herself and quickly walked to meet Ginny, leaving Harry and Ron in the classroom to discuss the presumption further.

* * *

He was having another slow day, not one person came into his shop the past three days and he was muttering about how he shouldn't have sold that little trinket that supposedly brought his grandfather some luck back in the day- when the door's bell rang, signalling a customer. Quickly, the aging, thin man, who resembled the look of a mad scientist with a shock of white hair, brushed his hair with his hands and smoothed over his fading shirt.

"Afternoon, lad," he said in a raspy voice. "What may I do you for?"

The young man was pale and tall, no doubt of rich upbringing, obvious from his boots of expensive leather, to his dark cape. He had on a snobbish bearing on his chin and his hands were covered in black leather gloves.

"I'm looking for something," Draco began. "A trinket actually. A friend of mine came here once and told me she found a rather nice looking pendant with a green gemstone."

"Green gemstone? Why, I sold that last year! To a young lady, I believe she was from Hogwarts." "Oh," Draco said, looking disappointed. "I had wanted to get a green pendant for myself."

"Sorry laddie. I actually miss the pendant too."

Draco gave a short laugh. "Like how you miss a person?"

"Exactly!" the old man guffawed.

"Why?"

"Why, well see here boy, tha' trinket has brought my family a fair amount of luck, I believe." "Luck?" Draco said, sounding interested. "How did you get that trinket, by the way? I'm actually beginning to feel sorry I missed out on something like that."

"Well," the man said enthusiastically, "My great-grandfather got this from a fairy market; you know back in the day, they used to have those travelling fairs."

Draco smiled thinly. He had recalled Hermione's story on how he'd gotten the trinket.

"Really?" Draco said. "How lucky of your great-granddad to have something as exquisite as that..."

"Mighty exquisite pendant if you ask me."

"Might I ask why you're lying?" Draco followed.

The man's mouth froze in place. "What? What do you mean by lyin'? I am not making that story up. And how dare you accuse me of lying when you haven't even bought anything!"

Draco fished out for the pendant he had hidden underneath the layer of clothing. It dangled heavily on the chain, like the weight had doubled in the last few days. Draco smirked and eyed the shopkeeper.

"You have it!" the man said in a strangled voice. "I don't understand... what do you want from me? Do you want more? I have nothing else of that, I-"

"How did you get by this pendant?" Draco asked, finally twirling his wand once in his hand. "Like I said, at the fairy market, my great grandfather bought it from a gypsy-"

"That's not the same story you told my friend."

"Her?" he laughed nervously. "I thought I was doing myself a favor to be off with that thing! No one's been interested in buying that in the years since I've managed this place. Even my father, bless his soul- and grandfather didn't have enough of luck to sell that!"

"Alright," Draco said. "I believe we'll do this the hard way... _Crucio_."

* * *

A/N: Thank you for your reviews.^^


	26. 107 Steps

**107 Steps**

* * *

Ginny's face was flushed as she entered the Common Room with Hermione in tow. She slumped happily onto a couch; a large paper bag was on the floor. Hermione followed suit.

"That was a fun day," Ginny said with a smile.

Hermione bent down to loosen her boots. "If fun is two hours of shopping and trudging in the snow, I don't know what you'll call tomorrow."

"Oh shush, don't dampen my spirits; I intend to look presentable for someone."

Hermione laughed. "Ginny, the whole school knows you're highly attractive. If you're out to catch one guy's eye, I'm sure he's blinded by you already."

Ginny stuck her tongue out and then smiled. "He hasn't asked me out, yet."

Hermione's brow rose."Are you kidding me?"

Ginny sighed. "He looks a bit bothered. It must be all this he-who-must-not-bull crap...or maybe he wants us to remain friends for the mean time?"

Hermione bit her lower lip. "Ginny, I'm sure Harry has his reasons, however noble and stupid."

They laughed together.

"And you," Ginny said, "You didn't pick a dress at all."

"How could I, with all those people hoarding the place over?" Hermione replied mildly.

"You've got some bloody surprise up your sleeve."

Hermione nodded and laughed again.

* * *

Draco stood outside of the shop, his lips drawn into a thin line. Snow flurries were falling all over Hogsmeade. He looked up to see Hogwarts in all its ancient glory. The castle had looked like one out of fairytale books. He took a breath, the cold biting through his nostrils.

He had left the owner in a happier disposition, as he had set out an _Obliviate_ spell for the old man. He peered through the dusty window and saw the man cheerfully wiping the counter with a dirty rag, whistling as he did.

Draco nodded once, as if assuring himself that he had done the right thing. He hadn't killed the old liar; he only extracted the truth from him. Turning around to pass through a bunch of trees, he came face to face with someone. Bellatrix.

He breathed in and greeted her quietly, and she dragged him deeper into the pine forest behind the shop. Her grip was strong and tight on his bicep. She breathed in raggedly. Reaching a grove, she shoved him onto a dead tree roughly and angrily flipped down her hooded cloak. Her face was nearly the same one as he had been always used to before, the manic eyes, the malicious smile- except she now had untidy blonde hair. Her lips were trembling.

Draco didn't know if it was anger or nervousness or both. She walked back in forth in a seemingly straight line, her fingers flitting about at her sides. He said nothing.

Then she turned to face him. "Draco, he's punished your uncle and father. We're next if you don't figure it out."

Draco breathed in, feeling the cold sting his nostrils, his palm, where he had given blood sacrifice, was beginning to throb painfully again. "I'm doing my best."

He made no mention of the successful work he had done the last few nights. He had yet to return to the tower, to keep the box and book in good hands. His hands.

His aunt looked even more agitated."You're not getting this through your cranium, are you?" she hissed, stomping on the ground. "They tried something else to help him; they tried that old witch's tale of curing the soul. It damaged him further and has rendered him nearly useless physically, only he was able to inflict pain on them just by thinking it, at his power's expense!"

"Then he still has power," he said quickly, shuddering at the thought of remembering the Dark Lord's screams while he had passed out.

Bellatrix shot him a haunting glare, her yellowish teeth flashing before him. "You don't understand, Draco. I _swore_ I'd kill your mother and you if either you or I failed."

* * *

The sun was setting low over the horizon and Draco quickly made his way back to the castle, passing through the basement, near the kitchens to avoid people. Walking up another flight of stairs, he had come, startlingly, face to face with Harry Potter. Of all the bloody coincidences. At first he didn't say anything and neither did Harry.

Then Draco opened his mouth to speak, determined to give Harry some sign, he didn't know why at that moment, but he spoke, his first words of familiarity to Harry Potter. "I- you need to be careful," he muttered.

Harry's brows rose. "Why?" His voice started to sound cross. He took a step back and glared at Draco.

He suddenly felt his blood rush through his veins faster. Here he was, the Slytherin Prince, muttering nonsense threats! "Just- be careful," Draco quickly said, brushing against Harry's shoulder as he left, feelings of betrayal for his family overwhelming him. But he had done his best. Perhaps Harry would tell Hermione and that redheaded arse.

Draco left Harry standing halfway down the stairs as he walked away. He suddenly felt lightheaded. He leaned against a wall and felt cold rushing throughout his body. He walked for the opposite hallway, heading for the Slytherin Common Room. Upon entering, he found the Common Room in a ruckus. Majority of the older Slytherins were there. He headed for his room, ignoring Blaise and Pansy's cry for his name. He saw his two other roommates resting in their beds and they greeted him, chatting continuously about their next prank on some hapless Hufflepuff.

Draco stumbled out of the room, searching for quiet. He found the door to Nott's dormitory open and he slid inside, lying on one bed, not caring who owned it. The door opened and Draco refused to see who it was.

"What the bloody hell-" Nott began. He quickly shut the door behind him.

"Don't mind me," Draco said blearily, raising one hand into the air and throwing it down on the bed. His eyes were still closed.

"You look sick."

"Do I?" Draco slowly heaved himself up. "Is this your bed?"

"Yes, good for you. If you had lain on that bed," Nott said, pointing to the bed beside his, "You wouldn't like it if I told you that guy's a wanker."

Draco's face looked disgusted. "You shouldn't have mentioned that."

Nott crossed the room and sat on his trunk at the foot of his bed. "Where were you?"

"Out."

"Doing the dark works?" Nott asked dryly.

"Sort of."

"How is it?"

"I- I don't know. We'll find out tomorrow or the day after, I guess."

Nott laughed."It's that soon?"

"It's too soon."

"You're not telling me anything else are you?" Nott asked.

Draco shook his head. "Maybe I will, tomorrow."

"Man of surprises, that's what you are," Nott laughed.

"I'm delaying my death," Draco said quickly.

* * *

Harry motioned for Hermione to get into an empty classroom, seeing her standing a few feet away from the Great Hall, going over a checklist for the ball. "Have you seen Ron?" he asked her as she got in.

She frowned.

"Sorry, bad question. It's important."

"I haven't," she replied shortly.

"Hermione, before we look for Ron...did you- have you noticed anything different about Malfoy?"

Hermione stopped in place. Draco? What was going on? Did Harry find out? But they had been careful... and she suddenly felt like a fugitive, like she had betrayed her best friend greatly. Her mind was swimming with a million excuses now, ranging from the absurd and to the simple fact that she had indeed fallen for the foe...

"I don't know Harry," she said, in the simplest way she could.

"He said something to me; I met him near the kitchens."

"What did he say?" she found herself asking Harry in a small voice. She sat across him, mindful that she had gone cold and tense. He didn't know about them, at least _that _was a form of relief.

Harry repeated what he said and added Draco had looked rather nervous and truthful."You think he's up to something?"

Hermione shrugged. Was Draco up to something? In the month that they had seen less of each other, he had become pale and less of an arse to everyone in school...he looked sick, like he hadn't had any rest, although he did excel still. He also seemed to be dazed most of the time when he thought no one was looking. And then there was that bandage that never left his hand. He had carried it for days now, his palm was always covered and she hadn't commented on it since that library incident.

"Maybe...he's having family issues?" Hermione said, remembering what Nott had told her one night, the only night she had actually conversed with Theodore Nott.

"Maybe. But why tell me to be careful. You don't think he's trying to tell me something far better than lame Malfoy family issues?" Harry said with a frown.

"Maybe he's...you think he's trying to tell me something connected to Voldemort?" Hermione sighed. "Harry, are we on this again? All your theories, however probable, need solid proof-"

"Hermione listen," Harry said impatiently. "He might be planning to desert the Death Eaters." "He's not even one-" "Father and Aunt are, that's sure," Harry muttered. He stood up, unable to contain the rush of theories coming out of his mind and mouth. "Think about it Hermione. He doesn't look like he's himself, his normal bastardly self. Have you seen him putting on airs lately? Have you seen him strutting about, beating lower years with those lumbering idiots? He looks ill, if you ask me. Something is up and I've only given it notice now that's he's approached me."

"Harry," Hermione began slowly. "If what you're saying is true, then we have to know what that is."

"We need to find Ron," Harry said. "I need him to know about this."

Hermione took a step back. "Could you do that alone, Harry? I don't think I can stand another moment pretending things were the way they used to be."

Harry's head bowed down. Then he looked up, his green eyes were resolute. "For me, Hermione. Please do this for me, just once, after we get through the bottom of this, I won't force you to do anything else again. Please." Harry knew she would say yes even before she opened her mouth.

* * *

Night time had fallen hastily and Draco found himself standing inside the tower once more, hopefully his last. He wondered how he could get away with keeping such easily recognizable items in his hands. The chest and book loomed heavily over the table he had placed it on; dust had once more given it a feel of seclusion. He opened the notebook where he had hastily written the prophecy announced by Sibyl and reread it on the same table as the book and wand container.

"_The Floor is wrought by Frost, immeasurable depth, take heed... __The Torch known to man by its pale, bright glow; it always burns where princes sit within… The ocean seems interminable to Man…and the waves of the water terrify all…She, the guiding star and the spherical light that comes from the darkness... the covenants are broken…the princes are to be where they are…"_

Frost. He had thought about it and assumed the prophecy meant finding the items in the middle of winter. He didn't know what torch meant, nor did he figure out who the princes were. Who the bloody hell were the princes? Harry Potter couldn't have been a prince. He was a half-blood. And nowhere was Harry near the ancient Wizarding bloodlines. Snape was dead and he had been known back then as Prince. And was this going to happen near some sea? How? Apparating? He assumed that the spherical light was the pendant, Areatha could have been the guiding star and that darkness came from its unknown history. And what were the covenants? The pressure had radiated throughout his body and he felt weak once more.

He sat on a broken down chair, the cotton spilling all over the place like someone had spilled its guts intentionally. Draco took one deep breath and figured that what he was doing; he was doing with the best intentions. Draco stood up and then walking down the tower, he headed for Dumbledore's office. He said the password and entered the room. Flicking his wand, he lit a few of the candles, careful to not make much noise.

Lightning suddenly flashed outside followed by the distant rumbling of thunder and he jumped back, nearly hitting a suit of armour. He walked for the cabinet that housed the little bottles filled with memories, wondering how they survived through the years. He tried to find another date in Areatha's time but found none. He cursed, wondering how he could steer the Dark Lord's plans to a safer direction for the people he cared for. He stood in the middle of the circular office, not knowing what to do. He saw the portraits of the Headmasters sleeping in the frames.

"In deep thought?" a voice broke out the silence. Draco looked for the voice. He saw Everard's portrait above the right wall and the old man smiled serenely. He walked up for the portrait.

"Professor..." Draco began.

"You do know it's against rules to break into the Headmaster's office?"

"I didn't. I accidentally found out about the password. Some nursery rhyme-"

"Ah, my favourite rhyme and Dumbledore's too- back when we were sprightly and breathing."

"I need your help," Draco began.

"But I'm a portrait," Everard's painting said. "Surely you know my knowledge and skills are limited now. I'm merely a fragment of memories and characteristics."

Draco sighed. "I'm in a tight spot now."

"Haven't we all been?"

"Suppose you could tell me about Areatha Lestrange and Colin Peverell, or the legend of the Elder Wand's encasement?"

The portrait placed a hand under his chin, as if trying to summon all possible memories. "Ah, I liked those two youngsters. Sad how their lives were cut short."

"I read some accounts."

"So have I. I do not know how they truly died, but I do know they tried to fight for it. As for the Elder Wand's encasement...isn't that on the fringe of the legend itself? It's a legend behind a legend. I have heard rumours of Miss Lestrange's family- or was that the Blacks... having it in their vaults, but rumours will be rumours. It was so long ago..."

"Please, I need all your help."

The portrait yawned. "Get some shuteye young man," he said. "Good night and fare thee well."

Draco stared at Everard who had dozed off into slumber. He shook his head, feeling lost now more than ever. He couldn't do this alone, he realized. He reached for his wand and held it in his hands, wondering if he could cheat his way out of death. He stared at objects scattered all over the office; his gaze then lingered on the frayed Hogwarts Sorting hat and was struck with a crazy idea. Now if only it would work...

* * *

A/N: Be a darling and leave me a review? ^_^


	27. Cover Me

**Cover Me**

* * *

They found Ron playing chess with Seamus inside the Gryffindor Common Room and Harry quickly dragged Ron away and into the prefects' empty room to tell him of the events that had transpired. Hermione had excused herself to go to the lavatory on the third floor as soon as Harry had reached his theories on Draco's behaviour, along with the plan of explaining them to the Aurors present in a few minutes. She needed to hear this from Draco himself. She was going to get to the bottom of this without compromising them both. She was walking quickly know, past stone walls filled with portraits and tapestries. The flames from the torches cast lonely shadows all over and Hermione felt a sense of foreboding. She didn't have any sense of direction but she found herself walking on the path towards the lonely turret on the eighth floor, the one with four empty rooms, well three actually. The fourth one was closed...Hermione stopped at the first step of the staircase. She recalled the night that Draco found her there.

_Why don't we get out of here? This place is giving me the creeps…" he had suggested. _

_She laughed a bit. "You're actually scared of this place?"_

"_Actually, I'm more concerned for your wellbeing. The drafts are pretty strong here." _

"_It's the broken windows-"_

"_You've been inside the rooms?" he asked. _

"_Just the three, the last one's locked," she pointed out to the door that had remained unopened. _

_Draco eyed the door and turned to face her. "There's a reason some have broken windows or that some are locked. Its best we leave, Filch might catch us here and accuse us of abusing our 'powers'."_

She ran up the flight of stairs, suddenly determined to open the last door. The turret was dark and Hermione lit one ball of flame from her wand, kneeling down on the door, reading the riddle. Runes... It had to be a simple riddle that people took for granted. She read it once more.

_whitest of grain;  
it is whirled from the vault of heaven  
and is tossed about by gusts of wind  
and then it melts into water_

Hermione laughed, realizing what it was. It was so simple. "Hail," she said to no one in particular. The door didn't open though. She probably had to write it down. Like the entrance to the cave...She swished her wand to write down the rune character for '_hail_'. The handwriting glowed and the door slowly opened, creaking at the hinges. The ball of flame followed her inside the room, flooding it with a bit of warmth and light. It was a cold room, Hermione thought, as drafts came through from a broken stained glass window near the around slowly, she marvelled at the debris surrounding her. Antiques from Hogwarts' previous occupants were here, from the heaps of books and furniture, even a chandelier.

Hermione spied a table with a book and a rectangular box over it. Frost had covered parts of the items and Hermione brushed them off, wondering what was contained within the books pages first. She opened the hefty book, unable to understand anything. Surely these were runes. But they looked so strange, Hermione couldn't decipher them. Upon closer look, she gasped. The characters seemed to be swimming around. Where did this book come from? Surely she hadn't seen this in the library before, or perhaps she didn't bother to. But why was it here? She stared at the cover, knowing it was a banned book.

Gingerly, she placed the book down and reached for the old elongated box. It was empty. There were decorations all over it though, of vines, an empty circle and a faded out crest, with what seemed like dried blood over it, too. Hermione frowned, trying to make some impression out of the box. She put it down, figuring she could have an outline of it later. There was a notebook near it, looking newer, bound in black leather. The first few pages of parchment were empty and then she spied in hastily scribbled writing, a single paragraph.

"_The Floor is wrought by Frost, immeasurable depth, take heed... __The Torch known to man by its pale, bright glow; it always burns where princes sit within… The ocean seems interminable to Man…and the waves of the water terrify all…She, the guiding star and the spherical light that comes from the darkness... the covenants are broken…the princes are to be where they are…"_

Hermione read over it again. Was it some sort of riddle too? Or a prophecy? And what was some new looking notebook doing here in such an old room? Hermione's heart pounded as her fingers slid over initials on the back of the notebook. _D.M._

She gasped, dropping the notebook on the floor, staring at it like it had poison dripping out of the pages. Hermione began to tremble as she bent down to pick the notebook up. She read it again. And again. What the bloody hell was this? She had never read about this prophecy and had never heard of it. She felt stupid; unable to understand something with such simple words...

Hermione began to search her pockets for a piece of paper. She found none. Slowly, she tore off one page from the notebook and grabbed the pencil in her pocket, not noticing something that fell out. Placing the paper on the wooden box, she began to scribble all over the paper until an outline began to appear. She now had a clearer look of the crest. She stuffed it into her pocket and grabbed the heavy book, trying to read through it, to no avail. Hermione pinched her lips, feeling more cold creep into the room.

She looked up and saw the wind blowing in from a broken window near the ceiling. Realizing she had been gone too long, Hermione quickly bolted out of the room, placing the objects in the same way she had seen them. Draco. Draco actually planned something. Something unknown, something dodgy and something based on a prophecy she couldn't understand...she felt like crying, unable to understand what it was exactly, but she knew it was something disturbing.

She almost felt like she couldn't walk straight, she felt sick as she headed for the prefects' room. Opening the door, she saw Harry and Ron with Kingsley and Williamson.

"Did Moaning Myrtle disturb you again?" Harry asked her and she knew it took her long enough to get back from using the lavatory.

She nodded and slipped in, forcing herself to stop the trembling that was welling from inside.

Harry had already begun to tell Kingsley of his suspicions, aided with Ron's fervent theories. They spoke in hushed tones and Hermione felt deaf all of a sudden. She saw mouths talking and heard nothing, saw Harry's zealous look while explaining his thoughts and Kingsley nodding along with Williamson who chipped in to fill some gaps. But Draco...he had actually planned something without her knowledge. Was it related to his family issues again? How could a prophecy like that be related to family issues? She suddenly felt betrayed. Didn't he trust her enough to tell her of his problems? But what if, just what if, his secret plans were for the Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort's greater gain? She nearly shuddered, nodding absentmindedly to Harry's interjections as Kingsley spoke.

Was Draco still an active member? How could he, when he had changed? She thought he had changed. Their talk continued and Hermione meekly excused herself again, mumbling about her duties as Head Girl and the need to check on the Great Hall and the other prefects. Harry nodded distractedly and continued to talk. As she walked for the Library fervently hoping that no one would be there, she suddenly felt sick. Slipping into the dark library, she made her way to the lineage section, reaching for a leather-bound thousand page book in minute handwriting. Scanning the pages she looked for families related to the Malfoys. Sure enough, she found the crest that she had copied on that torn piece of paper matched the family crest of a family related to Slytherin himself. She gasped, realizing the enormity of what Draco had been hiding. She stumbled along the corridor, afraid she would gag. Hermione stifled a sob, recalling Draco's words. It flashed through her mind like bolts of lightning.

_You trust me, right?_

_Why don't we get out of here?_

_I can't sleep, so there. Are you questioning my other activities now?_

_I'm just curious. Where did you get the pendant you gave me for Christmas?_

The pendant! And Hermione knew that the gift she had gotten Draco for Christmas had some horrible connection to all that she had just discovered. She stopped in place and leaned against the cold wall, it seeped into her body and she shivered and her knees buckled and she nearly collapsed. Someone ran for her and held her by the shoulders. Hermione looked up weakly, the scent of someone familiar held her. It was Ron.

"What's wrong?" he asked her and his voice seemed far away.

She blinked, trying to get a hold of herself. Somehow, the world was swimming around her, waves of light and shadows cast all over. She heard herself take a breath, wanting to explain what she had discovered but was unable to. How could she betray someone like him? When he had been nothing but- what had he been? Was his kindness and love for her a joke?

Ron heard footsteps and he saw Draco standing across. Draco's eyes had narrowed. He stared for a full five seconds before taking a step forward. Hermione began to shiver uncontrollably causing Ron to hold her tighter against his warm body. She was staring at Draco, her eyes looked confused.

Draco opened his mouth and Ron looked insolent. "Is she- alright?"

Ron was unable to reply, the initial shock of it had rendered him silent. He had actually asked if Hermione was alright. Ron nodded, protectively shielding Hermione with another arm wrapped around her.

"Harry!" Ron called out down the corridor. "Harry!"

Draco stood there for a few seconds, and then he turned his back and walked the other way, slowly, his footsteps echoing down the hall. Harry came after Draco had gone, along with the other Aurors, thinking there was need for alarm. One Auror checked Hermione and said she looked fine, but pale and suggested she be brought to the hospital wing. Ron hoisted her up, much to her feeble protest, happy to be able to play the part of hero for Hermione.

"What happened?" Harry asked her as they walked for the hospital wing.

"I thought she looked funny, kind of unwell. So I followed her, you know how she is, never one to lose face in front of other people," Ron whispered as Hermione closed her eyes.

"She fainted?" Williamson asked.

"Nearly, if I hadn't been out to catch her," he said as Harry opened the door to the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey was immediately at their side, escorting them to the end of the room. Ron put Hermione down gently and she slept on. Ron explained what had happened, mentioning it was probably from fatigue or stress.

"Best we let her sleep, then," Madam Pomfrey said, arranging Hermione's bed sheets about. She walked across to grab something from a large oak cabinet.

"I saw Malfoy. He actually asked if she was alright," Ron told Harry as Williamson spoke to Madam Pomfrey who was preparing a hot compress.

"He did what?" Harry said, unable to believe it. "You're not kidding?"

"No."

"He didn't hex her, right?"

Ron shook his head. "I got there first."

"He didn't look suspicious?"

Ron looked thoughtful and then bothered. "Strangely, no. But you know what's funny? It seemed like he was genuinely concerned for Hermione."

* * *

Draco had wanted to run after Ron, and take Hermione away from him, so he could care for her. Just like those bloody romantic witch novels. He fidgeted about, wondering what had happened to Hermione, if someone had discovered their secret affair, if Pansy- but it couldn't be Pansy. Did Nott do it then? Nott was in his quarters, he was sure. Who else? Perhaps Hermione had worked too hard and had not had sufficient rest from the examinations? His mind was filled with the most absurd reasons for Hermione's collapse.

And he hated Ronald Weasley at that moment, immensely. He could have held her, cared for her in the hospital wing...who the bloody hell was he kidding with? Madam Pomfrey would raise her eyebrows at the sight of Draco Malfoy carrying Hermione Granger into her ward! He was standing in front of the fourth door inside the turret. He sighed and wrote the character over the door with the use of his wand. The door opened and he stepped in, his wand alight.

He looked down at the table, seeing the items just as he left them. Then he blinked. The notebook, his notebook was supposed to be beside the wand's box. Now it was on top of the book. His heart pounded. He flipped through his notebook, found the prophecy and felt relief until he saw a torn portion of parchment. He felt terrified that else someone was in the room. Surely it wasn't a ghost...he looked around wildly for any sign of the intruder. Had the person figured out his interests? Had he been that careless? Glancing at the floor, he spied on something clean, white and crisp with a silver monogram. He picked the object up. His handkerchief! The one he had given Hermione!

Draco pocketed the notebook and book immediately, along with the wand encasement in his satchel. He quickly bolted out of the room, running down the flights of stairs, never stopping until he arrived at the passageway that led to the hospital wing. He stopped to take a breath. Hermione had somehow known, the extent of it, he was going to find out now. He wondered how he could enter the wing without the doors creaking. He wondered if Madam Pomfrey was still awake. He knew that Madam Pomfrey had another separate room inside the wing...should he take the chance?

He slowly entered the door, it creaked for a second. He took a breath and slipped inside, the room was in semi darkness and a few lamps lit the corners of the wing. He saw a figure at the end of the room in one bed, the rest were empty and he knew it was Hermione. Quietly, he tread across the floor to reach her. He saw her lying down, her eyes closed and looking troubled in sleep. He bent down closer and placed a hand over her mouth. Her eyes opened instantly and he stifled her scream. For a moment, her eyes looked frantic then it was replaced with fear.

"I won't hurt you," he whispered imploringly.

She nodded once, her heart screaming inside her chest. He let go of her mouth and she edged to the other corner of her bed, gripping the sheets tightly.

"What-?" Hermione began, unable to talk further.

He took out from his bag the handkerchief he had give Hermione nearly two months ago. Hermione gave an inaudible gasp and her eyes bulged out, as if she had seen the most damning form of evidence yet, of her sneaking around in a place not meant for her, a place only meant for Lord Voldemort's devoted servant.

He said nothing, but for a moment, Hermione thought she saw murder flash in his eyes. Then he shook his head and sighed, sitting on the bed beside her. Hermione trembled slightly as he did. A strange silence grew and they both looked at the white bed sheets under the dim light.

Finally, Draco spoke. "What have you found out?"

Her lips quivered. "Nothing."

"Please," he said, nearly gritting his teeth. "What have you found out?"

"Fragments."

"Of?"

"You're plotting something..."

"And?"

"I don't know what you're really up to, but please, get away from me," Hermione said looking defiant, although her voice shook.

He glared at her and shook his head. "I don't intend to-"

"Kill Harry?" she whispered.

Draco sighed and stood up. He towered over her and Hermione thought he would lose control and slap her face. Instead, he gave a curt nod and he started to walk away. Hermione stared at his back for a moment and without realizing it, she found she had walked up from the bed, running after Draco.

Draco spun around, hearing bare footsteps running across the quiet hall. He saw Hermione standing in her school uniform, knee high socks kept her feet warm, but barely. "What are you doing?" he asked her, his eyes widening.

"I'm sorry. I can't let you kill Harry," she whispered, stifling a sob.

"I'm not out to kill him Hermione," he said in a low voice. "I'm out to actually safeguard his arse."

"You- you are?" she said, feeling lightheaded again.

He nodded and saw her looking uncomfortable again. She shifted and held the end of another hospital bed. She shook her head once, as if to relieve herself from the stupor of dizziness.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded and Draco quickly held her close to his chest. He hoisted her up in his arms and brought her back to bed.

"Everything will be alright, I promise you," Draco whispered, kissing her forehead. She nodded, disoriented. Her eyes began to close. He sat beside her for a few minutes, to ensure that she would be sound asleep. Draco stood over Hermione as she slept, watching her as her brows creased once in awhile. As she slept on, he raised his wand and pointed at her, quickly muttering a memory charm. That would take care of things for now.

He suddenly felt a stabbing pain from his hand that radiated through his heart. He looked at his bandaged hand and clenched it once. He had said his part and would do his part. The question was how. Without much of a noise, Draco left the infirmary just as Madam Pomfrey came out to check on her patient.

* * *

A/N: Do give me some new year lovin'? I promise I'll finish this within a few months. lol


	28. Crystalline

**Crystalline**

* * *

At half past three in the morning, he slid out of the castle, walking towards the western boundary of the forbidden forest and Hogwarts, where the school's enchantments were at its weakest. He had received an urgent notice while sitting alone in the Slytherin Common Room from his aunt. On the edge of the forest, he saw three cloaked figures.

Bellatrix revealed herself, along with Fenrir Greyback and Nott's father, Theodore Senior. Draco was surprised to actually see Nott's father. He knew that Nott senior has been biding his time as well, waiting for information to leak out, and possibly not through Theodore junior's own doing.

"Do you have it?" Bellatrix hissed.

Draco nodded and showed them the elongated chest. He saw his aunt's eyes gleam with greed and he knew she was imagining another tearful and beautiful reunion with the Dark Lord. She smiled, her teeth shone, reflected by the moon's light in waxing gibbous phase.

"If this is not the right one, I'll bite your heart out first," Fenrir growled. "Or maybe infect you; I'm sure the aristocracy won't mind."

Bellatrix shot him a glare. "You'll do nothing of the sort, lest you want to die by my hands."

Draco placed the box in his aunt's hands. She eagerly opened it, but found it locked. She looked at Draco, impatiently.

Draco slowly took out the pendant. "I think this belonged to an ancestor of ours," he told his aunt. "It was sold across that tiny antiquities store across the Shrieking Shack. I figured it was the best pendant to fit the key to the chest," he added, placing the pendant over it and opening the bandages on his palm.

His palm looked sore, evidenced by blood drying at the sides and the wound still fresh in the centre. The three adults looked on, listening to every word.

"You need this pendant and my blood alone, since I'm the first one to open it in years. I recently found out a book that was placed in the Restricted Section, which needed the same pendant," Draco explained, letting blood seep out of his wound, the blood dropping on the box and pendant. The box shone for a moment, a greenish like haze rose from it.

Bellatrix quickly opened it, relishing the moment.

Fenrir cursed. "What the bloody fuck is that? It looks like a rag!"

Bellatrix glared again at Fenrir and smiled serenely at Draco. "You've done it, my dearest nephew. What else do we need to know?"

"That _rag_," Draco emphasized the second word, "Is a part of the Elder Wand, once a legend now a fact."

"Yes, but we still need to break in to Dumbledore's tomb..." Nott senior muttered.

"I can't disarm the enchantments," Draco told them. "That is beyond my control and not for my use but the Dark Lord's. This wand's leather encasement however can mimic the Elder Wand's prowess, only to an extent, but it needs to be placed on a host wand, if placed on the Elder Wand, the casing will lose its powers since the Elder Wand is its true master."

"Marvellous," Bellatrix murmured. "We must make haste for the Master."

"Who is Areatha Lestrange?" Draco suddenly asked.

Bellatrix's happy disposition faded. She looked at Draco thoughtfully. "Where did you hear her name?"

"I found out about her while I was researching for this."

"Some ancestor. I was too young to recall, but I do remember her name was blasted off of the family tree years after she left them for awhile but put up again after her father had a change of heart when she did die...she was supposedly a purveyor of dark charms. Why do you ask?"

"I think she might have had some connection to the wand's encasement and keeping it locked up like that."

Bellatrix smiled. "Ah, how wonderful. To have the pleasure of serving the master in our bloodline always!"

* * *

Daylight broke into Harry's room and he squinted and stretched, yawning in the process. He found his roommates snoring gentler this time. He quickly stood up and headed for the showers, the hot water splaying all over him, and he shivered and dressed quickly into warm clothing, planning to visit Hermione first without Ron's presence.

As soon as he stepped into the bright hospital wing, he found Hermione grimacing over some potion that Madam Pomfrey intended her to drink. Her eyes brightened, seeing his face from across the hall.

"Harry!" she said, placing the spoon down quickly along with the bottle.

"Hermione," Harry greeted, "How are you?"

"Fine actually. What happened to me?" she asked. "I woke up and found myself here and Madam Pomfrey said that I got dizzy and all last night. Do you remember anything, Harry?"

"You... you fainted near the Great Hall," Harry said slowly.

"And you found me?"

"No, uh...Ron found you and he called for us, the Aurors were with us, do you remember?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes and shook her head. "I don't really remember much..."

"They said it was stress. Madam Pomfrey thinks so too. You've been pushing yourself too hard with examinations and ball preparations, Hermione." He didn't mention the part where Draco had some strange concern for her.

"I have?" she sounded surprised. "Oh, yes. I recall feeling very tired last night..." her voice trailed off.

Harry's brows rose. "Ron didn't tell me you hit the floor..." he joked, "What's the matter with you? Did you conk your head too hard?"

Hermione laughed. "I hope I didn't. That would disqualify me for honors."

"Drink up," Harry prodded her, hearing Madam Pomfrey enter the room once more. Hermione made a face and stuck her tongue out, the spoon steaming with green liquid. She shut her eyes and took a spoonful and began to gag.

Harry took a step back, afraid she would vomit all over him. Hermione stopped and laughed and took the bottle in her hands.

"I actually like it," she said. "It looks like boogers, smells like a sewer but tastes just like mint chocolate."

Harry eyed the bottle. "Do you think you could pilfer me some?" he laughed.

* * *

The day of the Valentine's Ball arrived and the committee had their hands full, literally. With the preparation in complete swing, even the Slytherin prefects were seen seriously carrying out the plans (others assumed it was suppressed enthusiasm) as they worked on the Great Hall's Entrance. An unused classroom served as a temporary dining hall for the lower years who could not attend the ball, some complained, of course, about the age limit set. Hermione had arrived an hour after the set-up began. Terry stepped beside her and patted her shoulder.

"And how is the overstressed Miss Granger?" he asked.

Hermione smiled mildly. "I'm pretty perked up."

"Did you have some of that nasty smelling Anti-Faint potion?"

"Yes, I did."

"Smells like hell, tastes like heaven," he quipped. "But that pretty much saved my life back in fifth year. Remember that nasty Potions exam?"

Hermione laughed and nodded. "Had I known this existed earlier..."

"I just want to know where this is supposed to be," Susan interrupted Terry, pointing to a large ice carving, a snowflake that looked curiously like a heart.

Terry excused himself and Hermione took a seat on a thin but gilded chair, reserved for special occasions and vehemently cleaned by Filch every month. Filch himself was guarding how the chairs were handled by the prefects, sulking in the corners of the Great Hall once in awhile, yelling in a hoarse voice if the chairs flew by too fast.

She hadn't seen Harry since he visited her at the infirmary. He wondered where he was and where Ginny was...Draco stepped into the hall along with Theodore Nott and Daphne. She blinked, remembering she hadn't seen Draco in days. He looked pale but surprisingly, he also looked annoyed at the commotion for the event later that evening. He saw her across the hall, looking definitely healthier than last night before he had decided to erase parts of her discoveries.

She saw her give him a small smile. Theodore Nott saw it too. He cleared his throat before Draco could react, and immediately, Draco spun around to prevent any emotion seeping out of his face. Draco saw Nott's stern face and he almost shook his head.

Daphne looked at him questioningly, noticing both young men looking tense and wary.

"What's wrong? Did you swallow a toad?" she snapped, picking up a chair and carelessly flinging it to one corner with her wand. She saw Filch narrow his eyes and she smiled wickedly, enjoying Finch's reaction.

"Nothing," Draco said irritably."I hate these kinds of occasions."

"It's a perfectly good time to show off wealth and beauty," Daphne said haughtily. She eyed Ginny Weasley who had stepped into the Great Hall with another prefect. "Even if you have nothing left to show off for," she added, seeing the pretty redhead enthusiastically helping a fellow prefect. She felt her upper lip curl in disgust. She had almost liked the Weasley girl and had wanted to be friends- Ginny being pure blooded and attractive... too bad she hung out with the dirty sort. Like Hermione Granger.

"Draco, would you like to get to know my sister again?" she said, changing the subject.

"Which one?" Draco asked, trying to give interest.

"Astoria, of course."

"Ah," Draco said. He remembered the dark haired beauty that once visited their manor together with the other Greengrass members. She went to a different school, though. He had flirted mildly with her back in fourth year and she was barely in her teens. "Why would I forget?"

"She's still very taken with you," Daphne said with a malicious grin.

Draco laughed hollowly. "I hope that lasts a lifetime."

Daphne smiled, spun around and came face to face with Hermione. Hermione nodded once, knowing if she smiled, Daphne would never smile back. Daphne pursed her lips and walked away, Draco watched Hermione's reaction. Did she hear of their conversation?

He cleared his throat and passed by Hermione, hoping she wouldn't be offended. After all, all she remembered were the good times with him and not that ugly confrontation in the school infirmary. She stopped in place just as Draco passed by, suddenly feeling cold and unfamiliar beside him. Draco didn't look back, afraid others would see.

Hermione suddenly felt an odd sense of betrayal that something had secretly gone wrong somehow, even if her brain was telling her no one knew of their secret and that Draco would never renege on his vow. She slowly turned around to see Draco exit the Great Hall with Daphne Greengrass chatting animatedly about her sister again. She had never felt more abandoned in her whole life without even knowing the reason.

* * *

Theodore Nott saw her slip out of the Great hall moments after Draco exited. He quickly followed her out. He saw her walking quickly up ahead for the second floor. Draco was nowhere to be seen. Her steps had gone faster now, as if trying to catch up with the arrogant blonde that had ignored her completely earlier.

"Granger," Nott panted out.

Hermione paused and saw Theodore Nott looking tired from the quick pace. "Yes?" she said tersely. "How may I help you?"

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked her, shoving her into an empty classroom and shutting the heavy door.

"What?" Hermione said with a raised brow. "What the hell do you want from me?" she asked, clearly annoyed at why this Slytherin who never spoke to her directly could be so rude.

They were inside an Arithmancy classroom. Boards were filled with complicated calculations and side notes. Nott looked around the room, making sure only the walls could hear them. "Sit," he ordered her curtly. "You should be more careful-"

"What the bloody hell is going on?" she asked, refusing to sit and clenching her wand tighter, ready for a hex to hurl at the gawky, mousy haired adolescent across her.

"Are you trying to get yourself noticed?" he hissed. "Draco is in a far worse predicament than you would ever know. Don't try to state the obvious that you two are-"

Hermione's knees nearly buckled. "Wh- what?" she whispered. "You- Why? I don't understand...I-"

Nott's eyes widened. Was she playing some stupid joke? How could she pretend at a crucial time like this? "Are you daft?" he spat out, trying to internalize what was going on.

Hermione stood still, turning pale as Theodore Nott folded his arms just a few inches across her. "What's going on?" she asked.

"Merlin...you...you don't remember, do you? Don't you remember-"

"My memory is very accurate as far as I'm concerned. Don't mess with me, Nott or I'll see to it that you get expelled-"

"I know you know already. I've seen the way Draco looks at you, like it could be his last-"

"Stop it!" she gasped, unable to understand his reasoning.

"Don't you remember that night at the prefect's classroom? Remember what I told you?"

"You're the one that's absolutely bonkers!" she said, shoving him rudely out of the way.

"Stop loving him, Hermione!" he nearly shouted, exasperated.

Hermione's hand paused above the door's knob. She slowly turned around again, her eyes wide. "What did you say?"

"You heard what I said. Did he do something to you? To make you forget? To sugar coat the lies he gave you?" Nott began bitterly. "If I could just protect you, I would do so myself. But things didn't work out for me. He doesn't deserve you at all, no one does," he ended, feeling his cheeks splay themselves with red.

Hermione's head pounded painfully. Did Draco do something? She should have felt it, right? She trusted him after all. Did that explain why she felt so alone earlier? Did that explain why Draco wouldn't look at her? What was he hiding from her? Did it have something to do with Harry?

"Don't feed me with lies," she said.

"What should I do to make you trust me?"

"Nothing," Hermione snapped, feeling a massive headache coming on. Without warning, Nott walked right up to her and grabbed her whole body with unexpected strength, crushing her lips with his. Hermione's eyes widened and she jumped away, slapping him in the process.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" she gasped, trembling all over. She felt violated and worse, betrayed now, by Draco.

"Is that not enough?" Nott said in a hurt tone. He looked down, somewhat feeling dishonour for his actions, realizing he was still a pureblood and she a mudblood. Realizing that she was possession of the only ally he had in life...

"I meant that," he said drearily. "Maybe it will make you see that he can hurt you in far better ways than I can."

Hermione spun around and fled from the classroom, running away from the castle, tears streaming down her face.

* * *

A/N: I have taken the liberty to place the White Tomb on a little island in the Black Lake. I do know it is situated beside the shore, though. I thought it essential to my story. ^^


	29. Declare Independence

**Declare Independence**

* * *

Hermione sat quiet in her room, staring out into the fading daylight. She was alone, thankfully. Her mind was running with a million thoughts and she wanted to kill those thoughts away. She played her conversations with Draco over and over again, only to be interrupted by Harry's words and Nott's persuasions and...She buried her face in her hands, ready to cry again. She heaved in a sigh, just as someone stepped in the room.

It was a soothing, familiar voice and she turned to give a strained smile to Ginny. Ginny stood beside the door frame, looking every bit like Wizarding royalty. Her hair was swept up in a neatly done chignon, and she wore a beautiful salmon pink gown with a full skirt and a lot of shimmer all over, her appearance reminiscent to that of a classic 1950s Muggle actress. It was the first time she had actually given close attention to what Ginny had bought the day before.

Ginny saw her expression and despite wearing a gown and already fixed up for the night, crossed the room in a few strides and flopped beside Hermione.

"What's wrong?" she asked with a frown.

Hermione half sobbed and laughed. "Nothing."

"Did Ron bother you-"

Hermione quickly shook her head.

"I know something's hurt you. Or someone."

Hermione avoided Ginny's eyes. "Ginny, what if I told you I fell in love with someone else already?"

Ginny's eyes brightened. "Then that's no reason to cry at all!" Ginny saw Hermione's strained look and she immediately softened up. "What's wrong with falling in love again?" she asked.

"I think...I think you wouldn't like it," Hermione said in small voice. "And Harry wouldn't either..."

"Who is it?" Ginny asked feeling thrilled at the prospect of Hermione in love with someone new.

"It's-" Hermione began with a whisper.

"Hermione! Ginny!" someone yelled happily. Parvati entered the room dressed in her resplendent traditional Hindu garments.

Ginny rolled her eyes, annoyed by the interruption. "Damn it," she muttered. "Nice robes, Parvati," she quickly said to Hermione's roommate.

Parvati beamed and twirled around to show off her dress. "Isn't it? Ginny that's a really lovely dress too you know...and Hermione! Why aren't you dressed yet?"

Hermione smiled a bit, trying to control her emotions. "I- I'm getting ready in a bit."

"You'd better, Head Girl. The ball starts in an hour!" Parvati said. "And you should see the decor. It's beyond magnificent. I'm so happy we pulled it off."

"Well, " Ginny said, facing Hermione. "It really is about time you should get dressed. Parvati if you'll excuse us?"

Parvati bobbed her head and excused herself.

Hermione signed and curled on her bed. Ginny flopped beside her again, saying nothing for a few minutes.

"Will you tell me again?" Ginny asked.

Hermione shook her head. "Maybe after the ball."

"The suspense is killing me," Ginny complained. She saw Hermione's look and laughed. "Merlin, you're so serious. So...where's your gown?"

Hermione flicked her wand and an oak cabinet in front of her opened. The gown was suspended in midair. A sudden memory flashed through her mind...

_She smiled. "You might now sooner or later. There's a February ball scheduled. Not my idea of course-"_

"_I know it's not your idea. But whoever thought about it has just saved my fantasy," he smiled. _

"_It's the prefects from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw," she said. "There was no formal ball this year, so they thought of a 'better' replacement for the next year," she said, cringing a bit. _

"_Thank you," Draco murmured jokingly to the skies. _

_Hermione pinched his arm. He feigned hurt and then grinned. _

"_But seriously," he told her in all seriousness, "I'm holding my breath till that moment comes."_

She snapped out of her short reverie and now looked at the gown glumly and then saw Ginny's reaction.

"That- that's your gown?"

"Is it that hideous?" Hermione asked. She had always thought it was very stunning...

"Are you kidding me?" Ginny gasped. She jumped off of the bed and rushed to examine the gown. "This looks like it was handmade by fairies! It's too beautiful beyond words..." Ginny touched the hem of the midnight blue coloured gown and felt the fabric slip through her fingers like water. She saw how meticulous the beadwork was, tiny enough to look like feather dust. The beads changed hues depending on the light too. There was a semi-full skirt to complement the bodice. Ginny stepped back in awe again. A smile formed on her face. It was, without a doubt, the most gorgeous dress she had ever seen.

"My green eyes are green with envy! " Ginny said; excited for Hermione more than ever. "I can't believe you're not even starting to fix yourself up yet!"

Hermione laughed, genuinely this time.

* * *

Draco sat on a window ledge on the seventh floor, his dress coat folded neatly beside him. His white shirt gleamed under the bright yellow lights, freshly starched as always, his shoes neatly polished to military perfection. The monogrammed handkerchief he had given Hermione was safely placed inside a breast pocket. His black waistcoat was a bit wrinkled, but he didn't care and he stared out into the cold night forming across the horizon.

His mind was strangely blank and for a moment, he felt a beautiful sense of calm fill him... until he heard heels clattering on the stone floors. He looked up and saw a rather unwelcome sight, despite it looking very smouldering. Pansy had worn deep green for the festive occasion. How she found him here, he couldn't fathom. The first emotion that registered was annoyance. Then he looked up to see another person beside Pansy. It was Theodore Nott. And for once, he had neatly combed his hair through, wearing a black tuxedo with a wilted rose on his breast pocket.

"Ah, hello there, Malfoy," Nott greeted with a grin.

Pansy's body moved suggestively closer toward Draco. Seeing that it didn't work, she moved back beside Nott, nearly snuggling with him. Nott smirked and looked at Draco again.

"Please let me have my peace," Draco murmured, feeling his bandaged hand (covered in a black leather glove with crystals on the wrist) throb greatly, as it were about to open again. His chest suddenly felt heavy, as if a boulder had weighed his heart down, making it difficult to breathe.

Nott apparently heard it and understood, after all, he was only doing this for Pansy. He motioned for Pansy to leave first, telling her to go ahead and fix her hair up again. Pansy huffed, wondering where this was leading to, and if Nott would keep his word. But she did leave and after Nott saw her figure disappear, he turned to face Draco, his face sombre.

"Did you have to do that?" Draco asked brusquely.

Nott shrugged. "Have to. So I can get what I want."

Draco didn't bother asking, thinking of better things, like his mother's life and Hermione and Lord Voldemort's resurgence. But Hermione was no longer in danger, he mused.

"Keep away from Hermione," Nott suddenly said.

"Are we going back to this again?" Draco snapped.

"Trust me."

"Right-"

"I know you altered her memory."

"Son of a-"

"Shut it, Malfoy. I know what you did. I spoke to her, she remembers nothing. Nothing of your lies."

"You're that besotted with her?" Draco asked tiredly, feeling sorry for Nott all of a sudden.

Nott stood still for a moment and then leaned against a pillar. "Bollocks. I don't know what's wrong with me. Yes, I am. I hate it, don't you see? But there's nothing I can do."

"Well, you can help me survive."

"You're on your own man."

"Is that what I get for sticking up to you all these years?" Draco asked.

Nott laughed hollowly. "Come on, man. Wake up! You can't save everyone, let alone yourself. I'd have to assume Harry Potter will die, rather than you let your folks die, or Hermione, or yourself. Of course, I have no plans of dying yet; I have enough problems to solve."

Draco smirked. Self-preservation was such a tempting thing at times. But strangely, he didn't feel the need to even feel that moment. He felt more selfless than ever.

"I wish to heaven that I'd just push through this. Like any other school day, like any other failed year of misery and alienation from everyone else, like every disappointment from every year I've tried to please bastards I have to fear," he suddenly said.

It surprised Nott. Like Draco had told him something so secret...something nearly sacred. It felt so negative but likeable that he suddenly felt melancholic.

"We are becoming our parents, aren't we? Well, I don't recall mother much..." Nott began. "I don't want to become like my father. He doesn't have a funny bone in him. And he-" Nott stopped, realizing he had hated everything he had done for the past eighteen years of living. "Dragon gone straight to leather boots...I'm actually becoming like my father," he laughed bitterly.

Draco was silent, wondering if this was indeed their fate. To become like their parents, to serve for years someone who was considered 'walking dead'. Until that _master_ died, they would be prisoners for the tenure of his limbo condition. He couldn't imagine a life of privileged fear forever. To have all that money and be a slave to someone who didn't even give an ounce of respect to him and his mother and father...

"I didn't choose this path before. But it's become a part of me. I have to finish this, Nott," he said quietly.

"The Aurors aren't on this floor, I assure you," Nott told him. "I was told they were scattered all over. That Kingsley man was serious about the extra defence."

"He's always prepared. Dumbledore trusted him madly."

"Well, I don't. He'll find ways to bring us down, I tell you."

"I have to excuse myself for awhile. Hold down the fort, will you? There's a turret I need to get to before those nosy people do. By the way, there's something I want you to do. An old bean's been asking around for information on something I took. Take care of that, will you?"

Nott excused himself and left Draco to ponder alone for a few seconds. He had a bad feeling about tonight. He felt unprepared. Next week was the scheduled ploy on reviving the one man who could destroy worlds. His aunt had the plans moved instead of tonight; knowing Aurors were to assume that full moon made their plans palpable. He looked out onto the Hogwarts grounds and deeply breathed in cold air. His chest and hand throbbed again.

At that moment, he felt he was going to die.

* * *

It was five o'clock in the afternoon and Irma Pince; the school librarian was crossed. McGonagall was too busy to even bother talking to her, with Kingsley Shacklebolt around. She had only begun talking to McGonagall when his Kingsley and three of his entourage stepped in with Harry and Ron, and Kingsley announcing they had added protection to the school by way of more Aurors present.

"But Professor, I'm telling you, the book is missing. You know I do a monthly routine of checking on the books. The inventory-"

"We'll converse about that later, my dear Pince," McGonagall said, distracted by the large man's presence.

"But-" Pince was cut off. She sighed and tapped a finger on her sleeve testily.

"Yes Mr. Shacklebolt?"

"We have received word that they plan to move the following week," his deep voiced boomed within the large quarters. "It is essential we track those down. I've had two Aurors die because of this information. Albania was a big mistake but it had its advantage. I have had news that Lucius Malfoy was spotted fleeing with Pettigrew."

"So you mean my students are safer?"

"They are. I am leaving tonight with the larger number of my Aurors in tow. I will be leaving a skeleton team of six instead of twenty-five," he said, looking at the three people beside him. The three Aurors nodded.

Pince meekly raised a slightly curled hand. "Professor McGonagall, that book was highly antique- a definite resource for symbology- runes! If understood, it could be a key to very dreadful elements-"

Her voice was drowned by the deeper voices of Shacklebolt and his men along with McGonagall's edgy tone. No doubt, they were nervous about Harry Potter but she was more nervous about her lost book. Didn't the Potter boy always survive? Every year he had a harrowing experience and-

An Auror burst into the room, out of breath, carrying terrible news.

"Spotted just outside of Hadrian's wall- we have Dolohov and the Carrows on the run!"

Shacklebolt nodded and gave a few more quick instructions, excused himself and the rest of his team and left the room to apparate outside of the school grounds. The second in command, Proudfoot, turned to Harry and Ron, asking them politely to leave. Then he spoke in low and hushed tones once more with McGonagall and Madam Pince caught a few words pertaining to "student safety", "Slytherins" and "secret artefacts that were hidden in the castle in Voldemort's interest".

Pince sighed again. There was no use waiting for the Headmistress to listen. She would search for the book and the thief on her own; after all, she lived and breathed books. She said nothing as she slipped out of the office and back to the library. With only the lights at the restricted section still aflame, she scanned for clues the thief could have left.

True, the restricted section had its enchantments- but for a student to actually discover the password for that book, no matter how simple, made her grit her teeth. She wondered if the book was still in good condition and if the lad or lass still had good eyesight.

Pince actually had a feeling of dread growing in her heart. Someone was smart enough to know the contents or importance of that book. She wanted it back. She would propose to the rest of the school board that she would have the restricted section encased in glass- or something close to that, to add protection to the precious and priceless books. Snorting at the sight of the area where the book of runes was supposed to be in, she lit her wand to look for clues. She saw nothing though, for at that moment, someone stepped in front of her bent frame.

"You!" she gasped suddenly. Then she crumpled on the floor, living but rigid.

Theodore Nott stood quietly over the body of Madam Pince and sighed. He hated doing that to older people...but librarians weren't always in good terms with him anyway. He flicked his wand and sent her body to the far end of the library, inside a stock room for both new and old books. That would keep her shut for awhile, he mused.

Making sure no one was looking, Nott quickly walked out of the library, careful to put the closed sign in front of the door. In a few minutes, he was back inside the Slytherin dormitory, his insides twisting with anticipation for Draco's next plan and the girls that were fawning over his recently improved sex appeal.

* * *

A/N: Till next!


	30. A Desired Constellation

**A Desired Constellation**

* * *

Ron was furiously putting on his coat and his tie as Harry quietly sat fully dressed in regal robes and a tuxedo underneath. Ron shot Harry a glare.

"I can't believe this, Harry, it's nearly the start of the ball and no Malfoy has been arrested."

Harry sighed, nearly too tired to make an effort to speak. But he did. His head was bowed down as his shoes sat on the edge of his four poster bed. "Ron, I honestly don't know what to do anymore. To search for something I have no idea of. The whole idea is just useless. Kingsley gives me ideas, McGonagall prods the Aurors to keep me safe instead of –"

"You?" Ron interrupted. "Look, it's not just about you. It's about Ginny and Mum and Hermione and, Luna and Dad, Fred and George- just about everyone who knows you well enough. So don't go about saying that this is just for you. This is for all of us. And if you could just stop feeling sorry for everyone and yourself, maybe you'll get something useful for all of us. Even if it's food or runes or He-who-must-not-be's-knickers-"

"Say that again?"

"The knickers? What the hell-"

"Before that," Harry said impatiently.

"Runes?"

"Runes," Harry whispered, near incredulous.

"What about it?" Ron frowned.

Harry jumped off of the bed, walking back and forth; looking disconcerted-like his mind was racing through a zillion thoughts. "Why couldn't I have connected that earlier? It was right in front of me- Runes! He knows something. It's that ancient-"

"Harry! Woah! Explain. English, please."

"I saw Malfoy a couple of times with a small book of ancient runes. Something we're all not familiar with, I'm sure."

"And?"

"Remember Madam Pince in the office?" Harry said rapidly. "She was trying to tell Professor McGonagall that she had lost some book from the restricted section. I wasn't paying attention to it since it seemed so insignificant that time. Now it almost makes sense. Malfoy's hiding something from us- maybe he was trying to tell me something all along-"

"To probably lead you into a trap!" Ron interrupted. "And another thing, you said _small book,_ not large. The books in the restricted section are almost always large..."

Harry stopped. Ron was right. And if Malfoy did steal a book, he shouldn't have been walking around with it in the first place...unless he wanted Harry to see it? "Maybe...there's an exception to the large part..."

"Well, we need to see Madam Pince for that," Ron muttered.

"I need Hermione for this..."Harry murmured. "She's the only person I know who's that familiar with runes."

Ron sighed but before he could react, Neville came in, looking spiffy in his grey dress robes. He stared at the two of the, first, wondering if he came in a bad time.

" 'Sup, mate?" Ron asked.

Neville gave a broad grin, explaining that Ginny had asked for Harry to come to the Common Room where she was waiting for him. Harry smiled a bit, nearly forgetting the thoughts that had come barging in on him.

"Harry-" Ron began, seeing Harry stand.

"You heard what Shacklebolt said. They're moving their plans next week. Let's just be careful and enjoy the night, what do you think?"

"I never thought Ginny would have this effect on you-" Ron snickered.

"Oh shut it," Harry said, trying to hide a grin. "Neville, I need to ask a favour from you- if you could leave Susan's side for the tiniest minute."

Neville's face lit up. He had always been Harry's willing friend, especially since Harry had helped him improve on his magic skills, no matter how many bruises and bloody noses Harry had while teaching him to duel.

"Right," Neville began. "What do I need to do?"

Pansy looked agitated as she sat in the Common Room, glaring once in awhile at Nott who had a few girls surrounding him. She rolled her eyes and smoothed out her long dress made out of dark green velvet. She looked like a character from those periodic novels of the 1800s with her dark curls surrounding her pale face, accented by fiercely rouge lipstick. Nott took one look at her and excused himself to approach Pansy, much to the younger Slytherin girls' dismay.

He offered his hand out and Pansy took it. They walked out of the Common Room and into the corridor, lit by flames of orange and bits of green. For a moment, Pansy didn't speak. Then her mouth turned into an ugly line and she spoke.

"How does it feel to be wanted, Nott?" she said rudely.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard what I said."

"I like it," Nott said simply. "It's...oddly welcoming."

"Good for you."

"Just because Draco isn't paying attention to you anymore, doesn't mean you should vent it out on me."

Pansy burst into tears for a few seconds as Nott stepped away from her. Women and crying! Merlin, it was that annoying and handy.

"He has another one. And still you won't tell me who she is!" she said hoarsely. She was now fretting over her makeup as well as her ego.

"When the time comes, he will," Nott said coolly.

"Have you ever wanted someone so bad Nott? That you could just die being apart from them? The thought of someone else with him just breaks me inside."

"I'm almost there," Nott said, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. "I almost know how it feels."

Pansy paid no attention to what he said as she was solely engrossed with her hurting self-esteem. "No one knows how it feels to love Draco Malfoy. _No one_."

Nott said nothing. Hermione knew what it was like. And it gave her so much pain already- but Draco had momentarily taken good care of that part. But still- for Hermione to love Draco, when Draco could have had any girl he wanted... he suddenly felt like telling Pansy about Hermione and Draco. He took a breath. Merlin, was falling in love this difficult?

"Come on," he said to her. "Let's move it."

They walked for the Great Hall in sombre moods, seeing other students milling about, waiting for the doors to open. It was a sea of both dazzling and revolting robes, tuxedos and dresses. Luna Lovegood was conversing with a fellow Ravenclaw, dressed in a bright orange gown decorated with assorted coloured faux jewellery that almost made Nott snort.

In the corner of her eye, Pansy saw Ginny Weasley enter arm in arm with Harry potter. She snorted, but could not help think of how wonderful the two of them looked together, Harry in black and white and Ginny in a blushing salmon pink gown. Her grip on Nott tightened.

"I don't see him anywhere," she said in between teeth.

Nott said nothing, waiting for Hermione to appear, parting crowds in some dramatic entrance. But she was nowhere to be seen. He saw Ron Weasley, having a conversation with Neville and other Gryffindor men, waiting for their dates. He felt Pansy's hand grip his wrist, trying to steer him away from the crowds converging in the entrance of the hall. He sighed and shrugged against Pansy and Pansy let him go.

"Where is everyone else? Blaise?" she asked him.

Nott rolled his eyes. "Probably dead for all I bloody care."

Pansy huffed. She had preferred Blaise's company. But seeing how close Nott and Draco were this semester, she decided to switch alliances too. She said nothing and sat on a gilded chair, looking like a bratty princess. Nott excused himself politely, determined to find Draco.

"You're leaving me?"

"What am I? Your lapdog?"

Pansy's upper lip curled in disgust. She rolled her eyes, stood up and walked for Blaise who was with other Slytherin seventh-years. Blaise had a sixth year lady (dressed in black lace) around his long arm. He was dressed rather spiffily in silver and emerald green.

Blaise nodded at Pansy's arrival. "Where's Draco?"

Pansy said nothing and Blaise laughed.

"Do you reckon he's out shagging someone in the greenhouse?" he told her in between laughs. The other Slytherins politely snickered. Next to Draco, Blaise was second in command to bullying and the like.

She tugged Blaise's sleeve, making the lady beside Blaise glare at Pansy. Pansy glared back, determined not to let the ugly little thing in lace ruin her suddenly hatched plan.

"What?" Blaise asked irritably as Pansy led him to a quieter end of the hallway, away from the Great Hall's crowds.

"What is going on with Draco?"

"How the bloody hell should I know and care? He's been avoiding me and you for months now," Blaise snapped.

"I need a favour-"

"Pansy Parkinson asking a favour? This is spectacular!" he said with relish. He had wanted to sleep with Pansy for quite some time now, after hearing Draco nonchalantly tell him once on how Pansy was like during their shagging sessions.

"I believe he's in love with someone else," Pansy said.

Blaise feigned a look of pain, pretending to stab himself in the heart. "And you've actually led yourself to believe this paranoia? Look, Draco is Draco, he never falls in love."

Pansy's eyes flashed hurt. "Find out who it is. Then you can have what you want."

"Is that why you've been hanging out with Nott more often? Offering him the same thing?" Blaise said scornfully. "Look Pansy, I like a good shag, but to delve into this kind of espionage just for your poor cold Slytherin heart makes me feel selfish about my kindness."

Pansy stomped away before he could say more. At least Nott was nearly kinder than Blaise was.

Blaise watched, curious about the unfolding of events. It had been a good thing that he had seen Draco and Hermione together once. He had lost track as he sped after them, trying to see where they were heading deep inside the Great forest, one cold winter afternoon. He had seen Nott also, across the expanse of the castle, Nott's darting brown eyes following their movements. He was not the only one who had known. He would use this information for his personal gain anyway. What was another Malfoy dead to him? All the better, he thought, to be rid of the Slytherin Prince of his generation. Draco was a fiasco anyway. Blaise's father had foreseen that he could be more useful to the Dark Lord than Draco. Except…Blaise was afraid. He shook himself off of the idea. A Zabini could never entertain thoughts like these.

He smiled, wondering if he could catch Draco off guard. Suppose he could ask daddy to give the Malfoy Manor a visit.

* * *

"Oh!" someone sighed adoringly as the Great Hall's door slowly opened to reveal painstaking work elegantly arranged out like a fairy tale world. Snow flurries danced across the hall but they didn't melt, the Great Hall's ceiling shone with a thousand bright stars and silver hearts and red gems hung about from invisible twine, some holding tiny candles for an additional dreamy effect. Some gasped and some clapped, some of the lads laughed, while others said nothing, but their eyes shone with the reflections the hall's decor gave.

As the crowd slowly filtered into the Great Hall, Draco stood on the landing from the dungeons. In that split second as he looked across, he saw a woman walking down the stairs. At first he had thought it was another apparition because of the delicacy of her movements. He took another look and he nearly struggled for breath.

Hermione stood on the third step before the landing, her eyes searching for Ginny or Harry probably. Time nearly stopped for Draco as he gazed at her longingly. He had never seen anything so stunning. She was wearing the dress he had given her, and Merlin- it did not disappoint him. Midnight blue looked dazzling against her soft skin; the shade had made her eyes look lighter. Her lips were startling rouge, adding to the whole disarming effect. She wore no jewellery on her and her wavy hair was curled up in a loose bun, a few wisps of hair framed her face unwittingly. The beads on the dress made her look like she was surrounded by millions of the tiniest lights and it took his breath away.

Hermione took another tentative step down, clearly shy about her whole appearance. Draco heard someone call her name.

"Hermione!"

Draco stopped in his tracks, his heart thudding at the thought of wanting to run to her…he saw Ginny dash for her, exclaiming her compliments and Harry Potter was fawning over her too. Soon, Hermione was surrounded by majority of the Gryffindor crowd, mostly the females asking her about her gown. Draco slipped into the Great Hall without a word. If he could live through this night- how he wanted to touch her, hold her- talk to her, even if it meant dying!

Hermione had not noticed him. But even the Slytherin house noticed Hermione as she went in. Blaise's eyes grew wide, seeing the bookworm all dolled up for the night. Pansy glared at Hermione, wondering where she could have gotten the dress. Daphne Greengrass craned her neck to see the Gryffindor know-it-all and she nearly lost balance upon seeing her walk in looking every inch like the most beautiful woman in existence. Quickly smoothing her expensive crimson coloured gown, she shoved a male Hufflepuff student out of the way just so she could see Hermione's full look.

"Morgana's curse," Daphne whispered, unable to believe that her mind was registering the Mudblood's appearance.

Pansy saw Draco slip into the background, without Nott. She decided to control herself, planning to approach Draco later. Chances were, the new girl he fancied would be attending this Valentines ball too. She would wait.

Draco found it difficult not to look at Hermione. Why wasn't the world friendly to him? He could have been beside her now had life been kinder in terms of love. He heard someone snicker about the look on Ronald Weasley's face upon seeing Hermione and he nearly smiled at the quip. Professor McGonagall stood on a platform, her voice magically resounding throughout the hall. The rest of the faculty were there too, all dressed up in fancy robes.

"Students, it is my pleasure to announce Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's fourth Valentines Ball in two hundred years."

The students hollered and cheered, hyped by the fact that the Weird Sisters were once again booked to play for a Hogwarts Ball. A round stage had been set in the centre of the hall for the Weird Sisters to perform in.

"Enjoy the rest of the night and be wary of your impulses," McGonagall added almost sternly. Some of the students laughed, knowing full well that some of the lads had snuck alcoholic drinks inside the hall, smartly disguised in pumpkin juice bottles and butterbeer bottles. As soon as McGonagall stepped down from the podium, soft music began to play, something that sounded close to a Victorian era ball.

Some lads began to ask for the ladies' hands to dance, some shuffled their feet unconsciously. Neville was trying to summon the courage to talk Susan Bones into dancing, something Susan was so shy about. Harry wasted no time in sweeping Ginny off for an awkward waltz as Harry had never been much of a brilliant dancer. She felt giddy despite Harry stepping onto her heels every now and then. She had been cautious enough to use steel toed shoes (upon hearing Parvati's complaints back in fourth year) and laughed every time Harry apologized.

Ron sat on a gilded chair covered in white satin, watching the rest of his friends enjoy their night with or without dates. He sighed and noticed Hermione talking animatedly to Terry about how successful the ball was even at the first hour. The Weird Sisters were due to play at eight in the evening after a formal dinner. Ron had been a huge admirer of the band but compared to the fact that he could not approach Hermione in all her glory made his fanaticism seem irrelevant.

Terry excused himself to dance with someone else from Ravenclaw and for a moment Hermione didn't know what to do. He saw Hermione slip onto a chair, patiently watching the dancing and the laughter and the rustling of gowns and swirling hems. Her vibrant eyes seemed to be searching for someone and he could only hope it was for his face. He began to walk for Hermione's direction when he saw someone else approach her. Ron stiffened in place.

Theodore Nott stood in front of Hermione, offering a gloved hand out to her.

Hermione looked up in shock, recognizing Nott after a few seconds.

"I'm sorry," he said in a low voice. "A dance for friendship?"

* * *

**A/N: Do review. It gives me the fuel to write. =)**


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